A Remembered Spanking

By Nocti Raven

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This story is intended for adults only. It contains depictions of forced nudity, spanking, and/or sexual activity of preteen and young teen children. This is fantasy, and the author in no way endorses or practices these things on real life. If you are not of legal age in your community to read or view such material, please leave now.
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Katie and Trevor were getting frisky on the sofa. Their lips were locked and their eyes were closed. Her arms were around his neck. Trevor had one hand up her skirt, massaging her sex, and another on her waist, holding her close.

Katie sighed with pleasure, and wondered if Jack could hear. He was asleep in his bed, more or less right above the living room, but his ears were probably filled with the sound of his own sobbing. Trevor had once again insisted on spanking him, and he’d done an excellent job.

She lowered a hand to Trevor’s pelvis, and felt the stiffening bulge beneath the denim. He shuddered a little as she fumbled at the zipper; he was very sensitive down there.

“Tonight’s the night,” she whispered.

He grinned. “You sure? What was all that about the ‘Third Date Rule?’”

“This is our third date.”

“You call this a date?” he said. He pushed her panties aside and inserted a finger. She vibrated with sensation. “We didn’t even go out.” Another finger in . . . “We didn’t even have dinner.” Finger number three . . . “All we did was spank—”

“Fuck me,” she commanded.

The zipper came down, and a tower of plaid popped out. Katie stuck a couple of fingers into the waistband when—she heard something.

The two tween lovers turned to see a shadow on the stairway, coming down from upstairs. Trevor yanked his hand out of Katie so fast that she nearly came; she stuffed his erection back in his jeans to fast he almost cried out in pain.

Trevor stood up and fastened his zipper. If that was Jack coming down the stairs, if that little piece of shit had just cock-blocked him . . . the spanking he’d received earlier that evening would be just a sample, just a little cube on a toothpick compared to the opulent banquet that—

But it wasn’t Jack. It was his little sister, Allie. She was cute; in six or seven years, she’d probably be downright hot. That thought made it a little easier for Trevor to not be mad at her.

“Hi, sweetie!” Katie said. “Is something wrong?”

The little girl rubbed her eye with a little fist. “I can’t sleep. Jack’s crying too loud. Can you go make him be quiet?”

Katie beckoned and Allie came closer. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but I don’t think we can fix that. Your brother’s like a little baby; he can’t control his crying. If we tried to . . . do something about it, he’d probably just cry even louder.”

Allie made a pouty little frown. “Maybe he should grow up.”

Trevor laughed. “She’s got you there, Katie. Go tell the brat that I’ll give it to him even harder if he doesn’t shut up.”

“No, that never works,” Katie said with a sigh. “If he was capable of not crying, he wouldn’t be crying to begin with. I know how much it embarrasses him.”

“Okay,” Allie conceded. “Then . . . can you tell me a story?”

“Allie,” Katie said, “you’re almost seven. Aren’t you getting a little old for bedtime stories?”

Allie blushed, embarrassed. “No. I still like them.”

Katie vaguely remembered that Jack and Allie’s mother was some kind of writer; it made sense that the kid would appreciate old-fashion story time.

“Uh, okay,” Katie said. “I don’t really know any stories, though. Not kids stories, anyway. I mean, you’re probably a little old for ‘Jack and the Beanstalk.’”

“Well,” Trevor said, “you could tell a new version of the story, where the giant catches Jack and gives him a gigantic spanking.”

Allie giggled. “Okay!”

“Ooh,” said Katie, “how about ‘Jack and Jill,’ except instead of falling down the hill, Jack drops the water, and Jill spanks him for it!”

“Yes!” cried the first-grader. “That one!”

“Or,” said Trevor, “we could just write our own little story, about our own little Jack. And we could give him all kinds of wacky spankings.”

“Yeah! Like, like, he could get a spanking every day! And, and, from everyone! Especially his little sister!”

“Of course,” said Trevor. “She can be his personal spanker. Or spankess, or something.”

As much as it amused Katie to see Trevor and Allie having so much fun together, she had an idea of her own that was much better. The truth, after all, could often make a better story than fiction.

“Guys,” she said, “I think I have a story to tell.”

“What kind?” Allie said eagerly.

Katie smiled. “The very best kind, of course: a true story.”

“But I want one of the stories where Jack gets a spanking.”

“Oh, don’t you worry. This story’s got plenty of that.”

Trevor sat back on the couch next to Katie, and tapped his lap. As an afterthought, he noticed that it was the exact same gesture Katie used to get Jack across her lap. Fortunately Allie understood the differing circumstances, and hopped up to sit on his lap the same way she sat on her Daddy’s.

As Trevor’s big hands grabbed her waist to reposition her, she couldn’t help thinking of her big brother Jack, and how he could never do anything like this. She couldn’t sit on his lap; he couldn’t make her feel safe and comfy, like their dad did. It was weird to think of it, but even though Jack and Trevor were the same age, Jack was still a kid and Trevor was already a man. He wasn’t quite as big as most men, but he had that same feeling to him. He even had a little bit of stubble around his chin.

And she didn’t fail to notice that plump bulge in Trevor’s pants. Even Daddy had never had that in his lap.

Trevor wrapped one arm around Allie, like backrest, and the other around Katie. When the three of them were nice and cozy, Katie began her story.

“Once upon a time, uh, just a few months ago, actually, and in this very house . . . a naughty little boy was doing a very naughty thing . . .”

-=0=-

Mom and Dad were on a business trip, and Allie was sleeping at a friend’s place: Jack had the house all to himself for the weekend, which meant hours upon hours of uninterrupted . . . business.

He’d hoped to have a girlfriend to share this time with, but that hadn’t worked out. He’d asked three girls out in the last week, but all of them were “busy.” The real trouble was that asshole, Trevor. Trevor had just broken up with Christina, so every other girl in school was lining up to be the next ‘Trevor’s girl.’ The only girl in eighth grade that any other guy had a chance with was Christina, and she was admittedly out of Jack’s league.

So Jack was alone in his room, with sweatpants around his ankles and almost five inches of cock in his hand. He was trying very hard to think of it as his cock instead of his dick; dick was juvenile. Men had cocks, not dicks, and Jack was finally big enough to start thinking of himself as a man. A man who couldn’t get a girlfriend.

But he was making do with the internet. He’d conjured some college dorm porn, with a smokin’ blonde coed getting pounded by her mediocre boyfriend. If a guy like that could get with a girl like her, then Jack couldn’t wait to be in college.

As always, the doorbell rang at the worst possible time. Despite his best efforts to make the session last, he was on the verge after just a few minutes. He could feel the orgasm building, feel himself drawn into the sheer physical excitement of it, when the heavy ding-dong resonated through the house. It just about gave him a heart attack.

Reluctantly he stood up and pulled up his sweatpants. He tucked his dick—no, his cock!—under the waistband to hide the erection. His penis twitched, agitated, almost like it was begging him to sit down and finish. Soon, he thought. Soon, little friend.

He was pretty sure it was just a door-to-door salesman or something, but it might have been his parents or his sister, coming home early. His dick rubbed against the waistband as he bounded down the stairs; the friction tickled his entire nervous system.

He briefly paused in front of a mirror. Yep, the boner was effectively concealed. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, but that wasn’t so bad. Jack liked to think he had the beginnings of manly musculature.

He swung the front door open . . . and his jaw dropped a little.

It was Katie, one of the hottest pieces of ass in the eighth grade, widely considered the leading candidate in the race for Trevor’s girl.

“Hi Jack!” she said, tossing her mane of dark shiny hair and flashing a brilliantly white smile. “I didn’t know you lived around here; my house is just a couple blocks that way.”

“Huh,” Jack said dumbly. “Small world.”

“Are your parents home?”

“No, they’re gone for the weekend.”

“You’ve got a little sister, right?”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “But I’m kinda busy right now. What’s this about?”

Katie smirked. Jack wasn’t hiding his ‘business’ as well as he thought he was; Katie knew what it meant when a boy was shirtless, red-faced, out of breath, and sporting a little tent in his sweatpants.

“Well,” Katie said, dragging out the syllable, “I’m going around the neighborhood handing out flyers to advertise my babysitting service.”

Jack blushed, realizing he’d been too busy ogling Katie’s chest to notice the stack of papers she was carrying.

“You’ve got a little sister, right? So pass this along to your parents.”

“I . . . don’t think my sister needs a babysitter. She just stays at friends’ houses.”

Katie grinned dazzlingly. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Maybe you could use a babysitter.”

“What the fuck? I’m thirteen, Katie.”

“Yeah,” she said, “but you may not be mature enough to stay home alone. I mean, look how you spend your time by yourself.” She glanced suggestively at his waist.

Jack looked down. His dick had slipped out of the waistband, and was tenting noticeably. He blushed furiously, and shamelessly stuck a hand down his pants to fix it.

Katie giggled, and her round, perky tits jiggled fantastically; Jack got even harder at the sight of it, and that friction on the waistband sent shivers through his whole body, and without meaning to he—

“Oh,” he muttered, “oh fuck!”

Every muscle in his body tightened, his heart started beating like a jackhammer, and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. The only part of his body that worked was the pleasure receptors in the brain. The orgasm erupted inside him, shaking him off balance. He fell flat on his clenched butt, and began to shoot little blobs of milky semen all over his bare belly.

When it was over, he looked up at Katie, utterly horrified.

He wanted to apologize, to beg her not to tell, to explain that he wasn’t some pervert, but he could barely catch his breath.

But she . . . she took a step forward. No, Jack thought, this is not happening! But it was: she stepped into the house, and closed the door behind her. She wasn’t smiling exactly, but definitely smirking.

“Jack,” she said, “I’m going to do your parents a really big favor. I’m going to give them a free sample of my babysitting service.” She knelt beside him, set her flyers down on the floor, and placed a hand on his back, propping him into a sitting position. “I think you really need someone to look after you while you’re alone, and to make sure you don’t spend the entire weekend making a mess of yourself like this.”

“I, I, I don’t,” Jack stammered, “I don’t usually, um—I, Katie, no, I—”

But her hands were already on the sides of his sweatpants, yanking them off his body.

“You got a little stuff on these,” she said. “They need to be washed. And you need a bath.”

“No, Katie, stop!” he cried, trying to pull his pants back on. But they were already to his kness, and his right hand was so slick with his juices that he could barely get a grip without slipping. “Please, stop! What are you doing? Go . . . go away! Get out of my house!”

She gave him a stern look. “Listen carefully, Jack. For the next two days, I’m making myself your caregiver, and I will not have you spending the weekend like some gross animal, covered in its own goo. We’re going to get you all cleaned up, and then I’m going to give you a spanking for . . . for this whole thing. It’s immature, it’s disgusting, it’s uncivilized, and I won’t stand for it.”

“A . . . a spanking?” Even his mother hadn’t spanked him in years. What kind of eighth-grader got spanked? What kind of eighth-grader had a babysitter?

But while he was thinking on that, Katie got the pants past his ankles and all the way off. Suddenly Jack was sitting on the floor, completely naked and covered in his own cum, and one of the hottest girls in school was . . .

He couldn’t believe this. He was dreaming, surely. Right? This was all a horrible nightmare.

Katie grabbed him by the arm and jerked him up to his feet. That hurt, much too realistically to be a dream.

“Here,” she said, and handed him the balled up sweatpants. “No, hold them with your clean hand. And don’t try to cover up. If they get anywhere near your tummy, they’ll just get messier.”

Tummy? Jesus Christ, she was talking to him like a four-year-old!

She put a hand on his back and steered him to the stairs. He was just dumbfounded enough to go along with it.

He couldn’t see her face, but her stern stare had melted into a contented grin. It wasn’t her first time babysitting an older boy—in fact, Jack wasn’t even the first classmate she’d taken care of—but it always felt a little weird at first. There was always that little possibility that he might have the balls to rebel. None of them ever did, but there was a chance.

She also couldn’t help noticing Jack’s member, active as it was. Most of the older boys she babysat were immature physically as well as emotionally, but Jack seemed to be an exception. He had a decent crop of pubic hair, and a relatively average-sized penis. In fact, she’d babysat a sixteen-year-old who would have been jealous of Jack. But he was still a little boy; that much was clear from his little display at the door. No self-control, no manners, no respect. Yeah, Jack’s parents would be very grateful.

She told him drop the sweatpants in his laundry hamper (which was almost empty; most of Jack’s dirty clothes were on the floor), then she took him by the hand and led him to the bathroom.

“Sit down on the toilet,” she said, and he obeyed. She ran him a bath, and sat by the tub, waiting and thinking. Jack looked awfully small, sitting there on the toilet. He had a little meat on his bones, a little bulge to those biceps, but he was basically a skinny boy, with no noticeable body hair except his pubes and armpits. Not like Trevor . . .

Sadly, Katie wasn’t quite as confident in her future with Trevor as the rest of the class was. She certainly wanted him, and she’d certainly been as flirtatious as she could without sounding easy, but there were so many other girls trying just as hard! And Christina was one of Katie’s best friends. She didn’t want to come across as a boyfriend-stealer.

But with luck, the babysitting business would give her the edge. Having her own business made her seem more sophisticated than the other girls. If that could get Trevor chasing her, then maybe she could make it work with him and Christina both.

When the bath was full, she got Jack into it without a word of objection. He was still gobsmacked, still unable to believe that this was actually happening.

The bath, he thought, was way too cold. He liked hot showers, like a grownup, but she’d run him a lukewarm bath, like you do for kids who are afraid of hot water. As Jack submerged his torso, the half-dried blobs on his stomach began to float off as ghostly white wisps.

“Stand up,” Katie commanded.

“What?”

“Up. So we can clean you.”

Unable to object, or even understand, Jack slowly stood up. Water dripped from all over him, and he was suddenly very cold. No, he thought, no no no no . . .

Yes, the cold was having its effect. His nipples were growing, and his dick was contracting, shrinking down to less than half its normal size. He moved his hands to cover it, but—

“Wait,” Katie said. “Hold out your hands.” He did, and she filled them with a large dollop of body wash. “Now clean yourself up.”

Jack closed his eyes and got to work, almost dying of embarrassment as he scrubbed the cum off himself with his bare hands.

“And your peepee, too,” Katie said.

He opened his eyes. “My what? Oh.” So now it wasn’t his dick or his cock, but his peepee. And yeah, it was covered in jizz too. He actually groaned under the weight of the humiliation as he began scrubbing his genitals. He was less than two inches long, softer than brie cheese, and playing with himself . . . right in front of Katie.

After he was well lathered, she had him sit back down and soak for a while. When the bath was over, he stepped out, once again dripping and freezing, and a little prune-like in the fingertips. She handed him the smallest towel she could find, and he tried in vain to wrap it around his waist.

“No, Jack, just dry yourself off with it, then follow me.”

He wiped himself down, and she led him back downstairs, to the living room. There she sat on the couch and said, “Okay. Time for your spanking.”

Jack took a deep breath, and decided this had gone far enough. She could not just walk into his house, strip him naked, and spank him. She just had no right!

“No,” he said. He walked up and stood right in front of her, arms crossed, looking as manly and impressive as he could without his underwear. “We’re done. Get out of my house.”

She tapped her lap.

He leaned forward, putting his face just inches from hers. Before he could speak, he realized how weird it was: all this shit, this horribly embarrassing shit, this was what it took to get him this close to Katie. God, he was close enough to kiss her.

So he did. He leaned in and—

“Ah!”

She had reached out and pinched his left testicle. He froze, gasping, and doubled over in pain. He fell over, and landed right across Katie’s lap.

That, Katie thought, was a close one. Just for a second there, it looked like Jack might actually have the balls to resist her. But no, those balls were only good for one thing.

She didn’t even give him the chance to realize the position he was in; she just started the spanking, all businesslike.

And Katie hit hard.

Jack had forgotten how much spankings hurt. And this one just went on and on and on. The pain didn’t stop; it just kept getting worse. Between the spanking and the squeeze to his testicle, Jack’s body was in panic mode, completely out of his conscious control. His hands were squeezing the couch cushions, hanging on for dear life, and his bare legs were flailing wildly.

And he cried. The pain just got to be too much, and there was no outlet except crying. His face got all hot and scrunched up, then tears slipped through, then he began to sob, and then to wail.

Katie was actually a little surprised by that. She’d never seen so old a boy cry so childishly. That was good. Despite his not unimpressive genitals and his little moment of bravery, Jack was still a little boy, in need of a babysitter and responsive to one.

Poor Jack didn’t even notice when it ended. His butt throbbed with pain, and his own crying filled his ears. It wasn’t until Katie laid both hands on his back that he knew she’d stopped spanking him.

But in very real sense, she never stopped. That wasn’t the last spanking Jack would receive that weekend, and that weekend was far from the end of his time in Katie’s care.

-=0=-

“And that’s the story of your brother’s first spanking. Well, the first one from me, anyway. When your parents got back on Monday, I explained it all to them, and they were so happy with Jack’s good behavior that they decided to retain my services.”

“Retain?” said Allie.

“It means ‘keep,’” Trevor said.

“Oh. Well, whatever. That was a really great story!”

Katie laughed. “I’m very glad you thought so. But listen!”

She paused.

“What?” said Allie.

“Listen,” Katie said.

“I don’t hear anything!”

“Exactly! I think Jackie’s finally stopped crying and gone to sleep. And your story’s over, so I think it’s time you went to bed, sweetie.”

“Okay,” the first-grader said contentedly. Trevor carried her up the stairs, and Katie tucked her soundly into bed. They both gave her little kisses on the cheek, then went back downstairs to resume their unfinished business.

Little did they know, Jack had not gone to sleep. His crying had subsided, but he was quite awake. He’d heard every word of Katie’s story, and he’d suffered through the flashback while she enjoyed it. Even though the present night’s humiliation was still fresh in his mind, hearing that story kicked his embarrassment into overdrive. It was like opening up an old wound.

The more he thought about that first day, the more he wondered if he might have been able to avoid all this. If Katie had knocked at the door just a few minutes later, or even a few minutes earlier, he might have just taken her flyer and slammed the door. Or maybe, if he’d been thinking just a little bit clearer, he could have stood up to her and won.

He’d had so many chances, so many moments when he could have just put his foot down and kept it down, but he’d blown it every time.

And then the spanking had come, and the deal was sealed by his tears.

Now there was no way out.

There were only the sounds of Katie moaning with pleasure, and Trevor grunting with exertion, echoing up through the floor. This had to be the least soundproof house in the world. All Jack wanted was to curl up and fall asleep, but those noises wouldn’t let him.

They wouldn’t let him sleep, and they wouldn’t let him forget.

He is a man, you are a boy. He gets to spread her legs, and you get to lie across them.

He began to cry again, but softly this time. Just loud enough to fill his own ears, and drown out the cacophony of the fucking below.

(The End)