The Girl Next Door part 2

[henry999]

Her big, hard hand came walloping down and boy, what a shock. It HURT! Worse than a whack from a slipper, man her hand was like a block of wood. All of a sudden my confidence was slipping. This wasn’t going to be as easy as I’d thought. Then the next one came crashing down, in exactly the same spot and wow that REALLY hurt. The rotten cow smacked me another 4 times in exactly the same spot and the pain was unbelievable, worse than any slippering ever. When she smacked me on my other buttock it was almost a relief. Until, that is she proceeded to give me 5 more in exactly that same place. I gritted my teeth, wriggled a tiny bit: she had me so pinned in place that I had no room for manoeuvre. I was determined to be stoical, no way was I giving her the satisfaction of showing how effective her tanning was. Well that plan went out the window pretty quick when she speeded up and started covering my whole bottom with random slaps that landed here there and everywhere. I pleaded, I apologised, I yelled…..She totally ignored me and walloped away with that granite hand till my ass was ablaze. Did I cry? No, it hurt too much. I think anyone who has been truly thrashed knows that although crying might be a blissful relief when it hurts that much you just can’t. I lost count of how many she gave but it had to be fifty plus. At last the worst hiding I’d ever had ended, she lifted her leg and literally pushed me off her lap onto the floor. “Stand up you horrible boy”, she snapped. Which I quickly did. “Now go over to the corner, face the wall. Right, pull down your shorts, show your mother what happens to rude insolent boys’ backsides when I’ve attended to the matter.” Frankly I was in too much pain to argue, I just wanted to get out of there. I did as I was told. Taking a quick glance at Mum I expected to see her horrified, but her expression was a mix of satisfaction and maybe some relish too. In fact to be honest she was practically gleeful. I pulled my shorts up and was about to retreat to my room when Mrs Melling says “wait a minute.” Turning to Mum she says “Don’t hesitate to send him to me for a repeat dose whenever you want.” To my horror Mum says she surely will, and in a tone that left me in no doubt that she would do just that.

I got some cold cream from the bathroom and rubbed it gingerly into my poor swollen red arse. There’s be bruising there later I had no doubt. Although I could have cheerfully killed my neighbour I did have a funny regard for her too: she’d given me the worst tanning of my life, and the truth was I knew I’d been asking for it. I’d given my poor long suffering mother a really hard time, which I’d never have dared do if dad had been home. So coming up to teatime I went down and apologised to Mum, told her I knew I’d been horrid to her and vowed to do better in future. I expected all hugs and kisses but she was oddly cold toward me. She told me I’d hurt her with my behaviour, but she hoped this would be a new beginning. However, any lapse and I would be sent next door tout suite. This was NOT what I wanted to hear but I heard the resolve in her tone and I knew for sure that she would send me for another thrashing without thinking twice.

No doubt that hiding knocked some sense into me. I stopped giving Mum a hard time and I even settled down a bit at school. Now I was in the upper fifth doing “O” levels (remember them?) . I turned sixteen and at that age boys were rarely beaten except for serious offences. My poor backside got a rest and things were going nicely. I’d started seeing Jane, the pretty freckled girl I mentioned before, though it was just kissing and cuddling. She’d taken a real dislike to Lorna because she’d fallen foul of her three times, and every time she’d had three with the slipper. She thought that it was totally out of order for a 15 year old to be whacked like that. The humiliation was bad enough, (Lorna had slippered her in the prefects’ common room in front of the others) but the worse thing was, she said, it bloody hurt!

Anyway, everything was going well when I blew it, big style. I’d just got in from school and I can’t even remember what the argument with mum was about, tidying my room or some such nonsense. For some reason I totally lost it and ended up shouting at her to “Fuck Off!” There was silence and her face took on a look of thunder. She never said a word, just turned and walked out into the hall. I heard her pick up the phone, dial, then I heard her recounting what had happened. Then I heard words that horrified me; “Can I send him over to you?” There was a bit more conversation then “Well yes, sure, why not? That sounds fine. He’ll be right over. Of course I argued with her about going but she told me to get over there right away or she would ring dad and ask him to come home to deal with me. He was working in Thailand but I knew she would so this was a no brainer.
So with no further ado, heart in mouth, off I went. But when Mrs Melling opened the door I was amazed to see her arm was in a sling. I was expecting her to have her harridan look about her but to my amazement she was smiling and spoke to me quite pleasantly. “So Tommy, tongue got you into trouble again eh young man?” “Yes Ma’am” I says, “I’m really sorry. I’ve been trying really hard since you, er, since er… well, you know. I just lost it, I’m really sorry. I wonder if you could just let me of just this once, I promise it’ll never happen again.” She gave me a nice big smile and I thought great, cracked it. But then “Tommy, I never let anyone off in my life and I’m not starting now. Now as you can plainly see I’m out of action, I’ve torn muscles in my arm. So Lorna has kindly offered to assist.
Now my first thought was, no way, I’m not being whacked by a girl barely two years older than me, and especially not one who I used to play with. But then I thought, what’s the alternative? A call to Dad? I think not. Or wait till Mrs M is fit again, have all the horror of it hanging over me and then spend a nightmare 5 minutes with that granite hand walloping onto my poor ass. OK, Lorna was “The Slipper Queen” and according to Jane she really knew how to use it. But I was no 15 year old girl and I’d had the slipper a hell of a lot more than my girlfriend had, so what was to fear. And also, I have to admit, a tiny part of me was a little intrigued.
“Do you mean Lorna is going to punish me Mrs Melling” I asked politely. “Yes, she’ll deal with you as she thinks fit. She’s a prefect at the High you know and she is well used to punishing naughty pupils so I’ve every confidence she’ll teach you a lesson.” Then she shouted for Jillian, her youngest. When Jillian came into the room I was flabbergasted. Someone had waved a magic wand over her. The long gangly legs were now long,, lithe, and totally lovely, her arms were nicely muscled from tennis and there were two distinctive and very alluring bumps under her white school blouse. Skinny had become slim and the trademark short spiky hair set off her pretty face and sparkly brown eyes very nicely. Wow, how come I’d never noticed. “Jillian, take Tommy into the living room then go and tell your sister he’s here. I’m going to the shops for bread, I’ll be back in half an hour. Peel the potatoes for me please.” “OK mum. Come on Tommy, follow me.” As she turned to go through I admired the rear view. Her navy school skirt was quite short and pretty tight so I could see her trim little bottom was as nice as the rest of her. The annoying brat next door was a beauty! And I’d missed the metamorphosis. I thought of all the times I’d avoided her and mentally kicked myself.
We went into the living room and she gave me a lovely wide smile. “Give me a hand Tommy, we’ll get the room ready for her. If she has to do it herself she’ll be in a worse mood.” “Is she in a bad mood Jillian?.” “It’s Jilly to my friends” she said .”And she’s always in a bad mood. I hate her, she’s a cow. Mum’s put me in her charge of me now and she’s always whacking me. The only decent thing is she isn’t allowed to use the cane, thank goodness. Her slipper’s bad enough, as you’ll shortly find out” she laughed.
“I’m not bothered” say I nonchantly. “She’s just a girl and it’s just a slipper.”
“Good for you.” She laughed. “That’s the ticket. I’d like to see it. See if you’re as brave as you sound.”
“Like I say, I’m not scared of a girl with a slipper. I bet I hardly feel it.”
“You’d bet would you? OK- I’ll have a little bet with you if you’re game.”
“What bet?”
“Let me stay and watch. If you take it without flinching I’ll rub it better for you. After te, in the woods. Are you on?”
She looked down at the front of my trousers where there was a definite sign that I liked the idea. She laughed and pointed at my erection: “Don’t answer, I can see you like the idea.” Man had this girl grown up. “Now come on, give me a hand.” She had me push the big leather settee over to the wall and then we lifted a heavy square coffee table into the middle of the room. “She has you bend over and hold the table” she explained, “and we had to move the couch to give her room to swing. I’ll go get her now. One last tip, choose the six” I wanted to ask her what she meant but she was gone.
I sat on the couch and waited. My head was awhirl: I’d come dreading another horrible spanking form Mrs M, found I was getting slippered by a girl and now another girl, a very lovely girl, was offering to rub my bottom better if I let her watch. I wasn’t nervous about being slippered, it was nothing new, but I was very excited about what might come after. This could be great.
Five minutes later the girls returned. “Is the room OK for you Lorna” asked the little beauty”. Her eyes were sparkling and her cheeks red: she obviously found this very exciting. “Fine. You should know how I like it by now I’d of thought.” Lorna was wearing her school uniform. Brown blazer with the gold tape edging showing her staus as senior prefect, and sensible black trousers. She’d grown up too, more of a young woman than a girl. Her demeanour was no-nonsense, quite matter of factly she said “Right Tommy, you know why you’re here, let’s get on with it.” She took her blazer off, hung it carefully on the back of the chair, and started to roll up the long right sleeve of her school blouse. “Jillian, get out.”
“Tommy said it was OK for me to stay.”
“It’s not. Now get out. Go on, NOW!” She went. “Right Tommy, three four or six?”
To be continued