It Sure is Fun! 4
By Crimson Kid
crimsnkidck@yahoo.com
Copyright 2015 by Crimson Kid, all rights reserved
* * * * *
This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It contains explicit depictions
of sexual activity
involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to
view such material or
if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do
not save this
story.
* * * * *
This is a letter from one girl to the magazine "Girlish
Giggles and Grins", then a response by a psychologist.
Set in the Puericil Universe.
"IT SURE IS FUN! LETTER #4" by the Crimson Kid
From the November issue of "Girlish Giggles and Grins":
"IT SURE IS FUN!" #4
Salutations
from Cherry Twin Hills, my home town, Doctor McMichael, I haven't
written to you before but you still may recognize my name: I'm Joanne,
older sister of Candy, whose letter has just been printed in the "It
Sure Is Fun!" column within the current issue of "Girlish Giggles and
Grins," and also younger stepsister of Percival (whom we girls call
"Percy"), whose two complaining letters have already been published,
and responded to by you (as guest editor), in an advice column within a
popular magazine for teenage males.
First of all, let me inform
you that I'm a big fan of your writing, since I've read both GOOD
GIRLS, BAD BOYS AND PADDLING MOMS, which you wrote individually, and
THE COMPLEAT SPANKMISTRESS, written by your sister (Doctor Pamela
McMichael) and yourself in collaboration. Your ideas about controlling
the "overweaning male ego," as you called it, primarily by
feminine-administered domestic discipline (corporal punishment) rather
than relying too much on drugs, notably Puericil, seem to be "spot on"
(one of my mother's English expressions) to me.
When Mom and my
stepfather were discussing her plan to start my brand-spanking-new
stepbrother on Puericil, "to control his arrogant attitude," as she put
it, I supported Percy's argument that he needed to retain his
sports-related aggressiveness, which a full dosage of the drug would
reduce a great deal. Since I was able to show our parents a couple of
articles in medical journals about the negative effects of too much
Puericil--even the type which has no physical effect outside of the
loss of bodily hair--on athletic success, due to the psychological
changes it causes, my mother was willing to compromise somewhat, so
that Percy only receives one-third of the "recommended daily dose" of
Puericil. (Personally, I'm proud of my stepbrother being on our high
school's football, wrestling and tennis teams, even though I'm hardly
all that athletic myself--except for ping-pong, which I'm good at.)
While
I did think that Percy was a touch on the conceited and self-centered
side, he didn't ever strike me as being one of those stuck-up male
chauvinist jerks. It was his "Mediterranean good looks" (to use another
maternal term) and his success at athletics (especially football, the
#1 sport at our school) that indirectly caused him to act in such a
"condescending manner," to use another of my mother's expressions,
toward Candy and me after our households had been merged into a
"blended family," as the articles I've read would describe it. Since my
stepbrother got quite a bit of flirting attention, and still does, from
a number of his feminine schoolmates, some sort of a counterweight
(psychologically speaking) was, and still is, necessary to balance off
all that ego-stroking from his academic and athletic life.
However,
I certainly didn't want the counterbalance to be a full dosage of
Puericil, even though the type he takes (only a one-third dose) has no
physical effect except for the loss of bodily hair. (According to
Percy, the small dosage he receives has had only a marginal effect in
that area.) Boys who take the "recommended daily amount" of that
variation of the drug gradually lose their independent spirit and sense
of self-worth, becoming passive and weak-willed--it clearly eliminates
overly aggressive behavior on their parts and makes them compliant to
authority, but the effect goes too far in inhibiting their
individuality. (I'm basing this opinion on my observations of male
classmates, friends and relatives over the past half-dozen years.)
The
type of Puericil which causes boys to become physically immature is
much worse, I believe. Even though I'm a relatively small person myself
(5'2" tall, 105 pounds at sixteen years of age), that's due to my
heredity (my father was only 5'5" in height) and therefore is natural,
besides which it's not very much of an issue for a female. However,
guys my own age being no taller than me, plus so lacking in normal
bodily development that they look like fifth graders, I consider that
to be a form of deliberate medical malpractice carried out by our
society. When I see these poor boys being picked on in the hallways at
school, not only by regular-sized guys but also by some of the larger
girls, it really upsets me, yet they're usually too intimidated to even
complain to anyone in authority. (While I lack the physical size to do
much about it myself, I encourage Percy and even Candy to take action
against that kind of bullying whenever they're able to.)
In
stating this point of view to you, Doctor McMichael, I know that I'm
pretty much "preaching to the choir" (yes, that's a maternal expression
too) because you basically believe the same thing, which is obvious to
anyone who has read GOOD GIRLS, BAD BOYS AND PADDLING MOMS, which I
consider to be the child-rearing, domestic discipline handbook of the
"Conservative Resurgence." You discussed in detail well over a dozen
cases in which male teenagers who exhibited antisocial and mysogynistic
(anti-feminine) behavior patterns, along with almost no
self-discipline, were reformed through being subjected to regular, very
sound and extensive corporal correction administered by their loving
womenfolk--primarily mothers and stepmothers (hence the book's title),
but also aunts, sisters (including stepsisters), other feminine
relatives (such as cousins) female babysitters and occasionally even
girlfriends.
"Masculine posteriors have been designed by the
Sacred Feminine, however a person interprets the term, to be
embarrassing bared and then thoroughly spanked, paddled, strapped,
switched, whipped and caned by their caring womenfolk, preferably with
other females watching, assisting or even directly sharing those
disciplinary duties, on a highly consistent basis. While I'm convinced
that this describes the proper treatment of any male within double
digits (10-99) in age, in this in-depth analysis I will be focusing
specifically on the effective behavior modification of teenage males by
feminine chastisers."
That's from your introduction to the
book, and I'm sure that you already realize, from Percy's two letters
and the one from Candy, how completely my mother has instituted your
philosophy within our household. Even though my stepbrother was
seventeen years old when he first was subjected to being spanked
bare-bottom by Mom, with us two girls "assisting" her, she repeatedly
replied to his whining, childish objections, "It's never too late for a
naughty boy to get his naked fanny seriously tanned by a strict woman."
Boy oh boy, as you know, he truly did, and indeed still does, get it
walloped to a red-hot fare-thee-well by her, and later on by us
stepsisters as well, on a regular basis.
One thing my mother has
insisted upon is that knowledge of her stepson's "strict spanking
regimen," as she calls it, be limited to close friends of hers and ours
(Candy's and mine), namely those who've visited our house and seen
"Percival's Behavior Chart" hanging in the kitchen, flanked by the two
punitive implements--the sturdy Jokari paddle with the holes in its
striking surface and the short black leather strap--which are applied
weekly to Percy's naked buttcheeks by Candy and myself. Those guests
have been sworn to secrecy on that subject, although they may of course
discuss our family's domestic discipline arrangement with other females
who are already aware of it, my sister and myself obviously included.
(He does occasionally get gently teased by some of them during school,
but they have to be extremely careful to avoid being overheard by other
students--usually they'll merely flash him a knowing grin or wink
impishly with their hidden knowledge, especially on Mondays and
Fridays.)
The single frustration I had experienced in my role as
my stepbrother's disciplinarian had been convincing my close
girlfriends, those who had visited our house and learned about our
family's disciplinary situation, that I was able to make my
six-feet-tall, 180-pound and strongly athletic stepbrother bawl like a
baby while I was reddening his bare bottom over my knee. Some of them
didn't even believe that I could support his body across my thighs
without "the punishment hurting you more than it does him, Jo,"
although (as you've repeatedly pointed out in your writing, Doctor
McMichael) it simply requires the proper, evenly-balanced positioning
for a small female to hold a much larger male bent over her lap to be
spanked in complete comfort--for her anyway, though obviously not for
him.
My friends had no trouble accepting the idea that my "Earth
goddess" mother, a regular tennis player and jogger whose height
matches that of Percy while she's only fifteen pounds lighter, easily
reduces the boy to gushing tears and "hurtin'-for-certain" howls every
time she lambastes his exposed posterior with her Jokari paddle or
short leather strap. Most of them also believed that Candy, who's four
inches taller and thirty pounds heavier than me, not to mention an
athlete herself, is able to eventually make our stepbrother cry
childishly via vigorous application of Mom's paddle or the "Vermont
Country Store" oaken bath brush to his naked fanny, which is an
accurate assessment of her proficiency as a spankmistress.
Both
of them, my mother and sister, vouched to my girlfriends about my
ability to make Percy "weep and wail like a naughty toddler boy," in
Mom's precise words, while strapping him bare-bottom-up across my lap,
but still my friends remained skeptical--they clearly suspected that
feminine family solidarity was the basis for those endorsements of my
spanking ability. They were free to question the recipient of those
lickings from me himself, with the boy required to reply politely to
their inquiries, but his responses were brief and grudging, making them
seem forced and therefore possibly inaccurate. ("Uhhhh, well, sure she
makes me cry, whatever Joanne says," that didn't prove to be highly
convincing.)
So what could I do? Clearly, I simply required a
peer-group outsider to witness me blistering my stepbrother's bare
behind, thus making his teardrops flow freely while he "howled like a
banshee," to use an old-style expression employed in our family for
describing boyish reactions to being corporally corrected. Both Candy
and I had occassionally had girlfriends stay over at our house on a
Friday night, hoping that Mom would allow them to observe Percy being
chastised through the official "retirement" of that week's "behavior
chart," but in each case she had insisted that the girl leave our house
before the punitive proceedings got underway. ("This is purely a family
procedure at this time," she would explain, leaving open the possibilty
of outside girlish witnesses in the future.)
Maisie McIntyre
ended up solving my problem once I'd invited her to sleep over on this
past Friday night. She's a perky-looking girl from my class (sixteen
like myself) with a round, cute face, fairly short, curly chestnut hair
and a "pleasingly plump" figure. She's only a couple of inches taller
than me, which is a characteristic I appreciate, but we had only been
casual friends until that point. However, she has a sarcastic, witty
sense of humor which makes her seem quite mature to adults, plus she's
my stepbrother's second cousin--her mother is his father's first
cousin--meaning that she could be considered a "family member" of his
in a broad sense.
Still, she'd never before visited at our
house, so she was more than a touch surprised to view "Percival's
behavior chart" hanging openly on the kitchen wall, flanked by the
black leather strap and my mother's varnished Jokari paddle, with the
small holes in its striking surface and that revealing
inscription--"MITCHIE'S PUNISHMENT PADDLE FOR PERCIVAL'S BARE
BEHIND"--imprinted on the other side of its flat, oval-shaped blade.
Maisie was also amused by our family disciplinary situation, which she
immediately surmised. Her eyes were twinkling as she teased my
stepbrother while we all consumed pizza and pepsi-cola for supper, yet
she was playfully gentle in doing so; it wasn't difficult to realize
that my newest girlfriend found Percy to be highly attractive, and I
could hardly blame her for feeling so.
"So Aunt Mitchie really
lambastes your naked fanny when you need it, huh Perce? You know, I get
my mom's college sorority paddle cracked across my bare buns when I get
myself into trouble at home, so I can certainly empathize with you
there." (I'd suggested to Maisie that she address Mom as "Aunt
Mitchie," even though they were hardly related to one another, in order
to reinforce the idea that there was a family relationship involved,
and they both seemed to like the idea. Her calling my stepbrother
"Perce," the nickname he preferred, was another indication of Maisie's
attraction to him.)
He blushed appealingly as he replied with
the required precision. "Thank you, Maisie, actually I get spanked by
Joanne and Candy too, on Saturday mornings to retire my weekly behavior
chart." By the way that our visitor inhaled sharply in reaction to that
statement, it was obvious to me that she'd immediately grasped the
possibility of her witnessing my stepbrother's sisterly punishments the
next morning. She flashed a suspicious sidelong glance at me, obviously
having figured out why I'd invited her to stay overnight. However, she
didn't seem offended at the idea, cheerfully chattering away while
avoiding any questions or commentary which might seriously embarrass
Percy--it was easy to tell that the girl was "sweet on him," to use
another of my mother's old-style expressions.
"I'm supposed to
watch Perce getting his bare buns walloped by you tomorrow, Jo, isn't
that your plan?" Maisie asked me, yet in a matter-of-fact manner, once
we were preparing for bed in my room. "That explains this sudden
invitation to spend tonight with you, when we really haven't been that
close before today." Caught out by her rationality, I admitted my basic
plan to my brand-spanking-new, full-fledged girlfriend, much to her
ironic amusement. "I'll be glad to help you out, Jo, you've always been
nice to me even though our friendship has only been casual up until
now." She smiled slyly. "I'm expecting that you'll have him bawling
like a baby over your knee, I can hardly doubt that happening."
"Most of my friends who've visited here don't believe that I can truly make Percy cry," I retorted, feeling a bit annoyed.
Maisie
shrugged. "If his posterior is exposed and sticking up starkly, so that
you have open access to his tender undercheeks while you're swinging
away full force with that devilish leather strap, you should have no
trouble producing plenty of waterworks from our naughty boy, regardless
of his size and strength. I know that much from my own experience in
being paddled bare-ass by my mother, there's just no way to avoid
shedding all sorts of tears."
I nodded in agreement. "True, but
I still want you to witness Percy howling and blubbering across my lap,
so you can tell my other close friends that you saw it personally."
I'm
happy to report, Doctor McMichael, that it worked out precisely that
way, although my stepbrother almost ruined the whole plan after Mom had
agreed to Maisie staying to watch his "behavior chart retirement"
chastisement the following morning.
"It's about time to
introduce a few outside observers, and Maisie's actually an extended
family member of Percy's, so she's an ideal choice to be the first," my
mother stated calmly at 10:25 a.m. on Saturday. The boy predictably
blustered and then whined upon hearing that announcement, protesting so
petulantly that Mom was about to add "Disrespect to mother," an
eighteen-demerit offense, to his behavior chart. However, any
infraction worth ten or more demerits results in immediate corporal
correction of him by his "primary disciplinarian" (stepmother), which
on a Saturday morning before 10:30 means that his "chart retirement"
spanking session is postponed to that evening. (Such a situation had
occurred once, several weeks earlier, much to my stepbrother's
red-bottomed regret.) In that case, Maise would only end up witnessing
his walloping by Mom, not by Candy and more critically myself.
Then
my sharp-witted, brand-spanking-new girlfriend saved the day by
suggesting that it was natural for Percy to have reacted with shock to
the sudden change in our "punitive paradigm," as she called it, so he
should instead be assigned the appropriate demerits for two lesser
violations--"Acting argumentive" (four) and "Being disagreeable"
(three), which wouldn't require him to be spanked separately by her
"Aunt Mitchie." Fortunately my mother agreed to that proposal, which
did result in our futile protester's total demerits increasing from
forty-five to fifty-two. Since each demerit had to be "retired" by
three strap-strokes (from me) and two paddleswats (from Candy), his
total chastisements were thereby increased by twenty-one licks with the
strap and fourteen whacks with the paddle.
Maisie chuckled at
that outcome. "Ouchie! I'll bet those extra stingers are really going
to hurt," she said playfully, yet she refrained from any further
taunting of the blushing boy on that subject.
I won't go into
the full details of the pre-spanking ritual since my sister has already
described them in her published letter, but I will note that Percy's
being required to report to our bedroom with the two instruments of
correction to be delivered to us chastisers, request that his shorts be
lowered--he was wearing his standard "punishment outfit" of gym shorts,
white socks, t-shirt and athletic supporter--to bare his behind, then
be taken downstairs in order to be disciplined by us stepsisters of his
in the living room, all of that humbling ceremony impressed Maisie
quite a lot. One very recent addition to his overall circumstances is
that he now has his muscular yet slightly plump posterior shaved
closely by Mom three times a week, leaving it "smooth as a baby's
bottom" and even more vulnerable to being hurtfully blistered--I could
tell that our outside observer found that sight sexually appealing, as
I did myself.
After I'd pulled Percy's heather gray shorts all
the way down to his ankles and given his exposed moons a full dozen
brisk slaps with my palm, he was marched down the stairs--slowly, due
to him having to waddle to avoid tripping--while Candy steadily smacked
his rear end with medium-hard swings of "Mitchie's Spanking Paddle," so
that his "south side" (a local slang term for the human derriere) was
rosy-cheeked and nicely warmed up by the time he finally reached the
living room, where his stepmother was waiting with the bottle of baby
oil in her hand.
Less than a minute after our arrival there, I
was seated on the padded ottoman stool while my darling stepbrother
found himself bent over and lying across my welcoming thighs, his
upturned bare buns being coated with the slick oil as my younger sister
rubbed it onto his smooth, bright pink skin. Once my "assistants" were
kneeling in position, Mom gripping her stepson's elbows while she
smiled into his flushed face and Candy holding his ankles down while
staring at his glistening buttcheeks, I casually flicked the fiendishly
flexible strap against them, making my victim shiver.
"My, you
seem especially anxious this morning, sweetie pie," I told him
cheerfully. "Is having your pretty cousin for an audience causing you
any extra embarrassment at your chubby cheekies being so blatantly
exposed, dear brother?"
He gulped before responding. "Maybe just a touch."
Pressing
my left hand against his lower back while raising the sbort leather
strap in my right one, I chortled at his predictable masculine
reaction. "Well, don't worry about that, my misbehaving child--I'm
going to focus all of your attention on the state of your naked fanny,
to the tune of one hundred and fifty-six very convincing licks,
starting right now!"
Then I did precisely that, administering to
poor Percy the most emphatic over-the-knee leathering which I'd ever
given him during my limited stint as one of his spankmistresses--boy,
did I ever crack that pliable black strap across his helpless hiney! As
usual, I concentrated the searing strokes of the leather against his
underbuns, "the bottom of his bare bottom" (still another maternal
expression), and I had no trouble at all making him squirm, squeal, sob
and eventually "weep and wail" quite shamelessly. I'm not much of an
athlete (unless table tennis counts as a sport), but I've heard the
expression "getting into a zone," which means functioning at an
extremely high level, used by athletic competitors--including my family
members--and that's clearly what happened to me while I was "whuppin"
my stepbrother's reddening rear end so effectively.
Once my
sister had counted out "One hundred thirty-five!", I paused
momentarily, then ruffled his sweat-soaked black hair with my left hand
while he struggled to stop gasping and whimpering.
"You'd be
done with this part of your punishment, Percy dear, if you hadn't
protested Mom's decision to let your cute cousin watch your bare bottom
get blistered this morning." I teasingly tapped those quivering, dark
magenta buttcheeks of his with the flexible punitive implement, making
him shudder. "However, because you chose to be immature and exercise no
self-restraint, you have another twenty-one strapping lashes coming to
this fiery fanny from yours truly, don't you?"
He sobbed pitifully before answering me. "Yes, ma'am, I certainly do."
I
returned my left hand to his back and lifted up the strap to strike.
"Then I'll finish you up now, with your ass-thrashing from me anyway,
and you can rest assured that these will be the hardest strap-strokes
I've ever delivered across your plump impertinent rump--here they
come!" Well, Doctor McMichael, I was true to my word, making certain
that every one of those last leathering licks exploded right across his
sensitive "sit spots" with extreme prejudice. Boy oh boy, did Percy
ever end up crying like a little girl, while the wide-eyed,
ultra-impressed look on Maisie's face was such a pleasure to view. I
knew exactly what she would be telling my close friends at school on
Monday, much to my satisfaction.
However, while her second
cousin was standing in the corner, his nose pressed against the walls'
juncture and his deeply glowing glutes on humbling display while he
sniffled with his hands clasped together behind him, Maisie
complimented him on his "courage and self-control" in holding his basic
position with only mild restraint being supplied by my mother and
sister. "If I'd gotten my totally exposed asscheeks strapped that long
and hard, I'd have been flailing around like a wild woman. You were
truly brave, Perce honey, in taking the licking that you had coming. Do
you appreciate Joanne's willingness to discipline you so severely for
your own good?"
That was a direct question, so the boy was
required to reply with respect. "Yes, ma'am, I really do, I know how
much she cares for me." Maisie flashed me a knowing smile, both of us
recognizing the sincerity in his voice in spite of how emphatically I'd
just walloped his naked hiney.
From my personal point of view,
the remainder of Percy's chastisement was a touch anticlimatic (still I
did much enjoy baby-oiling his shining seat, immediately before Candy
took the Jokari paddle to it with great enthusiasm), although from his
perspective it undoubtedly wasn't--if anything, he seemed even more
embarrassed at being reduced to shrill howls and freely-flowing tears
in front of his smiling cousin by his more youthful stepsister, even
though she's physically my superior. After his second stint in the
corner, with his bare derriere radiating a burnished maroon glow at
that point, he received his first post-punishment hugs and kisses (on
his salty-tasting, crimson facial cheeks) from Maisie, who again
praised him for being couragous in enduring his "big-time spanking
session."
That evening, as I was massaging aloe cream onto the
skin of his ravaged rump (something I now do almost every night, in
order to keep it highly sensitive to being spanked), my stepbrother
asked me a surprisingly perceptive question between his contented
sighs. "So now Maisie can be counted on to tell your close friends how
you made me carry on so childishly while blistering my behind, can't
she?"
"Did she tell you that?" I asked him.
Percy
shrugged. "She confirmed it, but I'd already figured it out. She's not
one of your true girlfriends, but everybody knows how truthful she
is--plus she's my second cousin, so Mom probably wouldn't object to her
watching my bare butt getting blistered by Candy and you, I'm guessing
that was your thinking."
Laughing, I gave his sore nether moons
six smart smacks with my palm, which made him wriggle under my
beautiful bumcheeks as I was straddling his waist and facing his feet,
while I'd been ministering to his precious rear. "You can be too smart
for your own good, honeybun," I said with affection.
Doctor
McMichael, I'm going to follow the advice which you offered me in your
response to Candy's letter, so I'll be enjoying my closeness with my
stepbrother--which includes my disciplinary duties, of course--in a
sisterly fashion only, at least until I reach full adulthood. I won't
deny being romantically and sexually attracted to him, I can't avoid
those feelings, but I'll do my best to keep my emotions under firm
control in that area.
In closing, let me give you credit for the
concept of keeping a teenage boy's buns shaved smoothly, which you
suggested in GOOD GIRLS, BAD BOYS AND PADDLING MOMS--it does appear to
make his corporal correction sting him where it counts even more than
otherwise, plus my enjoyment from rubbing both baby oil and aloe cream,
"before and after," on his bare bottom has increased.
Thanks to
your guidance, Doctor McMichael, it's totally true now, that being my
stepbrother's strict, sisterly spankmistress--"It Sure Is Fun!"
Yours in spanking sisterhood,
Joanne
P.S.:
My mother suggested that I inform you that I now have plenty of "spank
cred" (belief in my ability to bring Percy to blubbering tears by
strapping his naked fanny) among my close friends, thanks to Maisie
telling them about what she witnessed, although her account makes his
enduring of the "whuppin" as impressive as my administering of it.
Also, now that Maisie has "broken the ice" in witnessing my beloved
stepbrother being walloped, Mom has agreed that other feminine
outsiders--Candy's and my girlfriends, and especially hers too--will be
allowed to watch Percy's bare-bottomed chastisements in our home.
MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!!
[Doctor McMichael's Response:
This
letter has impressed me greatly, Joanne, not to mention flattering me
quite a bit as well. I always enjoy corresponding with a serious fan of
my work, especially one who (while at the tender age of sixteen)
understands it with such clear insight.
My book GOOD GIRLS,
BAD BOYS AND PADDLING MOMS was indeed intended by me to be (as you so
clearly expressed it) "the child-rearing, domestic discipline handbook
of the 'Conservative Resurgence'," so I'm gratified that a highly aware
young lady such as yourself actually finds it to be exactly that. Your
family, under your mother's leadership, is succeeding in implementing
the basics of my approach to the feminine control of potentially
negative masculine behaviors.
I'm in full agreement with you on
the issue concerning overuse of drugs such as Puericil, which can be
useful when employed in relatively small dosages but also can have
long-term destructive side effects for the males it is administered to,
if there is a lack of rational restriction in its usage. I'm appalled
at the number of significantly undersized, passive, emotionally
emasculated teenage boys that I come across in areas where the
'Conservative Resurgence' has relied too much on biochemistry, and not
nearly enough on strict corporal correction from their concerned
womenfolk, in order to modify the behavior of overly aggressive males.
It
was quite clever of you, managing to have Maisie approved as the first
feminine outsider to witness Percival's 'behavior chart retirement'
spankings from both Candy and notably yourself, and I hope that she
will continue to be a frequent observer of his bare-bottom blisterings
(that's an expression which I simply adore for describing a male's
domestic discipline from female family members), plus a member of your
circle of close girlfriends. She seems to understand the importance of
your stepbrother accepting and even eventually emracing his role as a
regular recipient of very sound chastisement within your household,
hence her praising of him for undergoing it as though it was a
conscious choice on his part--although it clearly isn't yet, hopefully
it someday will indeed be one.
I'm gratified that you've decided
the accept my advice (offered in my response to Candy's letter in the
previous issue of this magazine) about keeping your relationship with
Percival platonic and sisterly, albeit sweetly affectionate, at least
until you reach complete adult age. In terms of both biology (genetics)
and morality, I foresee no problems with you two pursuing a romantic
and sexual relationship at that point, but right now there would be
justified societal concerns over it. (By the way, should your
stepbrother stop 'playing the field' and end up with a steady
girlfriend, it will be the responsibility of the females in his family
to train that lucky young lady in corporally punishing the boy within
their romantic relationship--in other words, she would also need to be
"whuppin" (there's another term which I'm fond of) his naked buttocks
regularly, along with your mother, sister and yourself.
Well,
that's all I have to say at the moment, so I'll simply reiterate that,
as Percival's primary womenfolk, all three of you female step-relatives
are doing a fantastic job of keeping the boy firmly under family
control, yet without inhibiting his individuality or damaging his
self-image. As you lovely ladies (I'll include Maisie here as well)
obviously understand, Mother Nature has designed masculine posteriors
to endure intensive, protracted corporal correction from the feminine
counterparts of those severely chastised 'boys' (of any age from
10-99)--therefore any male's gushing teardrops, his glowing, burnished
maroon derriere and his penitent sobbing are highly positive, desired
outcomes, ones which demonstrate our resolve and effectiveness as
society's dedicated spankmistresses.
I'm know you'll help keep your stepbrother regularly red-bottomed and bawling, Joanne--happy strapping!
Yours in spanking sisterhood,
Almeda McMichael
P.S.:
My first fictional book, one describing an idealized, feminine-led
family under the 'Conservative Resurgence,' will be released in print
next month, then I'm going to send you a signed copy of BOYISH BARE
BOTTOMS BEING BLISTERED. So be looking for it in the mail, I think
you'll enjoy the short novel, plus you can share it with other
interested female
parties.
(The End)