Aunt Blanche11

Time stopped for Billy. Blanche released Billy’s strained ear and sat, straight-backed, in an armless bedroom chair. With a swift motion of her hand, she deftly drew his swimsuit down below his knees revealing a moderately erect juvenile penis, and four angry red stripes of yard stick origin on an otherwise white, prepubescent bare bottom. Mortified beyond belief, Billy’s whimpers became sobs. He was roughly thrust over his aunt’s stockinged lap, and he thought, Oh no, this is it! “Please Auntie Blanche! No! No, PLEASE! Miss Parsons, I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’ll never do it again!” Firm hands gripped, pulled, and pinned his arms behind his back. “No, No, Please! No!” A pause as Blanche raised the awful hairbrush, saying in a low, deliberately frightening tone, “You will remember this spanking for the rest of your life!” WHACK…WHACK…WHACK…WHACK…WHACK…”OW! Ow-Ow-Oweee-Ouch! No! No, PLEASE! STOP!” WHACK… WHACK… SMACK… CRACK… WHACK… More swiftly now, the hairbrush land-ing with pinpoint accuracy, stinging flairs of pain… “Owwww, Ow, Ow, Owwwww.”