Not Fair?

By Verity

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This work is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It may contain 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.
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Not Fair?

by Verity

Luc Noddle, thirteen going on fourteen, tended to be lazy and disobedient, but after his mother read the ‘It’s not Fair’ letters column in Boy Stuff magazine, almost everything changed.

Mrs Euphemia Noddle was in despair. She worked part-time as a doctor’s receptionist, which meant that, for two or three evenings in a week, she needed a ‘sitter’ for her son Luc, now thirteen going on fourteen. He had objected, and things were not working out. He had now gone through three sitters, he wouldn’t do what he was told, was untidy, wouldn’t complete his homework, and stayed up watching TV and video games instead of going to bed at the time he was supposed to. His mother had almost concluded that she would have to give up her job when she came across a series of letters in ‘Boy Stuff’ magazine. They were in the ‘It’s Not Fair’ column, and were from a teenage boy called Steve who had a girl sitter aged only 12. The positive effects on Steve, by way of shame and humiliation, had been considerable. Mrs Noddle herself had a 12-year-old niece, Krista, who was very intelligent and self-possessed. Perhaps Krista could bring her own schoolwork and continue with it while she supervised Luc.

Would it work?

Krista was enthusiastic, especially when Mrs Noddle gave her ‘Boy Stuff’ to read.

As for Luc, his mother thought that the humiliation of having a 12-year-old sitter might in itself have a sobering effect, as with Steve, and he did indeed protest, but not as much as his mother had expected. Clearly he thought that now he would get away with even more. Well, Krista would see about that, thought his mother. And Luc, indeed, became rather subdued after he was given the letters to read, especially when he came to the part about Steve being regularly paddled by his young sitter. And he looked increasingly gloomy as his mother and Krista discussed it.

‘What’s a paddle?’ asked Krista.

‘They’re more common in the USA than here. It’s like a table-tennis bat.’

‘I could get one of these,’ said Krista eagerly. ‘An old one from the school. With a long handle.’

‘Best take the rubber surface off, if you can. And have it sandpapered down to the wood.’

‘I could do that, or get someone to do it in the school craft department. Then we’d rub the wood down till it’s smooth and hard. Just right for a boy’s bare bottom!’

Luc gulped.

‘Will my p-pants be taken down for the paddle, then?’ he asked apprehensively. ‘Like with Steve?’

‘Yes,’ said his mother and Krista together. ‘It does no good otherwise,’ said his mother.

Luc’s face fell further. He shifted uneasily and asked, ‘Will KRISTA pull them down?’

‘Yes!’

Luc’s mother was pleased to see that already he seemed more quiet and thoughtful, and indeed on the first two nights when he had Krista as a sitter he was a model of good behaviour and obedience. On the third night, however, Krista went across to his desk and found that he had done none of his homework, but was still playing with his computer.

‘Start your homework now, Luc,’ she said crossly. ‘You should have done it long ago.’

‘I’ll do it soon.’

‘Do it now’.

‘I said I’ll do it soon.’ Luc pressed a few more keys.

Krista said evenly, ‘Luc, fetch the paddle.’

Luc, horrified, jerked upright in his seat and said, ‘Okay, okay, I’ll do it, I’ll do it.’

‘Yes, you will – but I’m going to paddle you first, as you must learn to do what you are told, and right away. FETCH THE PADDLE.’

Very reluctantly, the boy unhooked the paddle from its prominent position over the mantelpiece, and went over to Krista, who seated herself on the settee. Pulling Luc close, she briskly unbuttoned his jeans and peeled them down to his ankles, followed by his underpants, then pushed the rest of his clothes up as far as she could, right under his armpits. A moment later the near-nude youngster, scarlet-faced and squirming with mortification, had been turned face-down over the 12-year-old girl’s lap, while she reached for the paddle.

‘Oh please, how m-many, Krista?’

‘Twenty.’

‘NO!!’

‘And there may be more, if you don’t do your best to keep your bottom still.’

And then the paddle was cracking down vigorously and repeatedly. Krista went about her task of reddening the boy’s bottom with determination, lips pursed and brow furrowed...while Luc writhed, kicked and cried, louder and louder, as his bouncing bottom-cheeks gradually began to resemble a pair of ripe tomatoes. Krista stopped at twenty with the paddle, but added a half-dozen energetic hand-smacks, coupled with a warning to Luc to do as he was told next time.

Then Luc, released, was dancing and bawling on the carpet, furiously rubbing his hot rear, but after a moment or two Krista had him stand with his face to the wall, pants still round his ankles, and with a stern instruction to keep holding the rest of his clothes up as tight under his armpits as he could, otherwise he would be paddled some more. Luc had to stay like that for about ten minutes, during which he desperately hoped that nobody would come in. This time he was lucky, but he guessed that on a future occasion, if any, he might not be.

On other evenings, events took a different turn. In the normal way, Luc’s mother gave him a bath twice a week, and this duty now fell to Luc’s 12-year-old sitter. Before she started her evening sessions, Luc’s mother asked Krista to come in and watch her bathing Luc, so that she could give some advice. Luc had been most unhappy about being bathed in front of Krista, and had been crying during most of his bath, until his mother had become extremely impatient with him.

‘It will be Krista bathing you next time,’ she said sharply, ‘So you’d better get used to her seeing you bare.’

‘He’ll probably be crying even more when I bathe him,’ said Krista, ‘But I won’t care!’

Luc’s mother, who always bathed the youngster with her bare hands and told Krista to do the same, emphatically counselled a no-nonsense approach.

‘Don’t be shy about anything, or washing any part of him,’ she said, making the pink-faced boy stand up in the bath. ‘You’ll be bathing him, and you’re in charge.’ She reached downwards and said, ‘Look – take a firm hold of his willy and lift it up, then wash all round it. Take no notice if he yells or wriggles, because he’s very good at ‘putting it on’. But if he’s difficult, be sure to take advantage of him being naked and give his bottom a good hard smacking.’

Then she turned the boy round and made him bend right over, as tight as he could, so that he ‘opened’ completely, and showed Krista how she washed deep in Luc’s crack, vigorously soaping up and down with her fingertips.

‘I can do all that,’ said Krista confidently.

And indeed, when Krista took over, the routine was simple. At bathtime, Luc’s clothes were taken off in the living room and put away for the wash, then he had to run upstairs naked, with Krista following.

And then matters generally went smoothly, and Luc quickly became accustomed to having Krista bathe him, and she for her part went about her task briskly and matter-of-factly, ignoring Luc’s wriggles and squeals. Also, on more than one occasion, after being thoroughly bathed and dried, Luc was sticking out hard in front, and, without comment, Krista took a firm grasp and quickly and vigorously ‘dealt with’ it, as Luc gasped and squirmed, then yelled as he ‘shot’ into Krista’s palm. After which he was wiped down before being walked nude to his bedroom, to put on his pyjamas and go to bed.

But, being a typical boy of his age, Luc was not yet a fully reformed character. Several weeks after Krista started as a sitter, on a summer evening, Luc’s mother gave a small outdoor party in their garden. Luc, who was out with his friends playing football, had been strictly warned to return punctually for the event, and to be clean and presentable. Instead he arrived through the garden door nearly an hour late, in football clothes, untidy and muddy.

Crossly, Krista led Luc over to a garden bench, took off his shoes and socks, then briskly peeled off all of his clothes and put them in a bag for washing. Then the abashed 14-year-old was walked naked across the garden to the house.

On the way, firmly holding Luc’s hand, Krista stopped to chat to one or two friends. Mrs Spokes from next door asked, ‘Taking Luc for a bath, eh?’

‘No, for a paddling,’ said the 12-year-old. ‘A BARE paddling. I’ve told him far too often about coming home on time.’

As Luc looked at his toes in deep embarrassment, Krista asked the neighbour, ‘Want to come and watch him getting it?’

‘Certainly!’

‘I warn you, he kicks a lot!’

‘I’ll take a chance.’

Finally, it should be said that Luc, having read Steve’s letters, has little sympathy for him. He says, ‘If Steve doesn’t want his pants taken down, he just has to behave himself and do as he’s told! If not, he certainly deserves to have Ellen tan his bare botty! HARD!!’

(The End)