The Guest Speaker |
1998, Paris Annette Morreau All rights reserved. This story, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission ******************************************************** The 6th grade class filed into the auditorium to hear a special guest speaker. The students didn't care who it was or what he or she had to say. They were getting out of class and that's all that mattered. Danny made sure he walked in right behind the blond, ringlet-curled Marcy, ensuring that he would be able to sit right next to her. The chairs were really too small for the older kids, but Danny was glad of that. It meant that when he sat next to Marcy, their arms would be touching. And she was wearing a sleeveless dress today. A pretty, pale yellow, short sleeveless dress with a white organza sash in the back, tied snugly at her waist and finished with a huge bow. Her white patent leather shoes were new, Danny could tell, and her anklet socks were ruffled in the same white organza as the sash on her dress. They walked right up to the first row of chairs and sat down in the exact middle of that row. Danny couldn't help but notice that Marcy jumped and winced a little bit when she sat down. "What's the matter, Marcy?" he whispered, his mouth close to her little ear, her warm skin the fragrance of summer. Marcy shook her head and shrugged. "Come on. Tell me," Danny urged. Marcy blushed, and looked down, her pale white skin coloring her pretty face a deep red. "Marcyyy," Danny sang, nudging her. "Mommy spanked me," Marcy rushed the words. "Why?" Danny asked, immediately folding his hands in his lap and squeezing his legs together. "Why did she spank you?" "Because..." Marcy hesitated. Danny nudged her with his shoulder. "Mommy and I went to church yesterday," Marcy began, "and afterwards I told her I wanted to help the Sunday school teacher put the chairs away and clean up after the little kids. And she said okay and told me she was proud of me for being such a 'good little helper.' After she left, I walked toward the Sunday school room and met Desiree. She had told her mother the same thing, but really, we were going to go to a movie. It's the one that's playing now. You know, the one with all the kissing." Marcy glanced at Danny and blushed. "That one?" Danny asked, shocked. "There's supposed to be naked people in that movie, he whispered. "Did you go? Did you get in? Did you see it?" Marcy nodded. "We snuck in through the exit just when the theater got dark. No one saw us. We kind of hunched down in the front row and watched the movie." "So?" Danny urged. "Did they..., were they...., did you see...?" Marcy nodded, and blushed again, looking at her hands folded in her lap. "Well? Tell me!" Danny insisted. "There was a man and a woman," Marcy began to explain, turning her head towards Danny, but not looking at him. "And he was mad at her. He pushed her up against a wall. I think she was going to try to hit him, or something, because he grabbed her hands and held them against the wall and she couldn't move." Marcy frowned. "Well, she didn't really try to move. Anyway, then I guess he wasn't mad anymore, because he kissed her. I think he kissed her." "What do you mean, you think he kissed her?" Danny asked, clearly frustrated. "Either he did or he didn't. What did he do?" "Well, he opened his mouth really wide and pushed it against the woman's mouth. And her mouth was open, too. And then they touched tongues. It was weird," Marcy shook her head. "But I think that's the way people in movies kiss," she said assuredly. "Wow!" Danny breathed. "Then what happened?" Marcy, her confidence gone, blushed deeply red. "He pulled her blouse and her, you know, right off her. And she was bare. And he kissed her right on them. Right on the tips," Marcy stared at her hands, as though more interested in the white of her knuckles than in the story she was telling. It was so warm in the auditorium, she thought. She wished there was a breeze to cool her face. "And then he lifted her skirt and she was wearing really small, little panties. And you could see through them." Marcy whispered, barely audible. "Then the man knelt down in front of her, but I don't know what he was doing, because I could only see her face. And her eyes were closed and her mouth was open and she was making sounds like,... like, kind of like the monster does in a movie when he can't talk. You know?" Marcy turned to Danny. "You mean, like a moan?" Danny asked. "Yeah! Yes, like that." Danny thought for a moment. "Was he hurting her?" Marcy shrugged. "I don't know. She didn't scream. He wasn't holding onto her anymore. I guess she could have gotten away." "Hmm," Danny mused. "So what happened after the movie? How did your mother find out?" "Mommy ran into the Sunday school teacher at the grocery store. When I got home, she asked me how the clean up went and I must have been a big help and what did the teacher say to me and questions like that. And I told her that the teacher thanked me and asked me if I would come back next week and help her again." Marcy sighed. "Oh noooo!" Danny closed his eyes, imagining what the consequences would be if he had done that. "Then she got angry and told me what happened at the grocery store and that she knew I wasn't helping the teacher," Marcy offered without prodding. "She asked me what I had been doing and that I'd better not lie about it because she would find out." Marcy glanced at Danny, raised her eyebrows and shrugged. "So, I told her I went to a movie. She wanted to know which movie and I told her." Marcy shook her head. "And then she just got mad. She told me that she was going to turn me over her knee, pull my panties down and spank my bare little, white bottom until it was red and burning like fire." Danny stared at Marcy and began to breathe rapidly. "She told me she was going to spank me for going to a movie on a Sunday. She was going to spank me for going to see that movie. She said she was going to spank me for lying." Danny stared at his friend, his mouth open, unable to speak. He could not imagine what he would have done or said if he'd been caught doing what his friend had done. Marcy continued her story. "When I was over her knee and my dress was up and she was pulling my panties down, she asked me how I'd managed to get in to the theater to begin with. So I had to tell her I'd snuck in. She said that was stealing and she was going to spank me for that, too." Danny closed his eyes and clamped his teeth together. He "saw" Marcy's perfect little plump bottom, bare and vulnerable over her mommy's knees, her dress pulled way up. He saw her mother's big hand spanking Marcy's tender skin, her bottom wiggling and jiggling. The heat in the large auditorium was stifling and Danny began to pray for a cool breeze. "And she did," Marcy continued, now wanting to tell the whole, awful story. "She spanked me and spanked me and spanked me until I thought my bottom was on fire. It was so hot! And she spanked me at the tops of my legs, too. She spanked so hard." Marcy shook her head, her bottom still sore from the attention it had received. Danny leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. Hands on Marcy's bottom, he thought. Hands spanking, soothing, gliding all over Marcy's pudgy little bottom. Marcy's soft, warm, round cheeks under his hand. His hand spanking lightly, spanking sharply, stroking, touching her silky, plump bottom. "Danny? Danny, are you okay?" Marcy asked, shaking his shoulder. "Do you want me to call Miss Appleby?" "No!" Danny nearly shouted. He sat up and put his head back. "No. I'm okay," he said, his breath ragged. "I'm fine. Tell me what happened next." "After mommy spanked me with her hand, she brought out the hairbrush and spanked me with that. Have you ever been spanked with a hairbrush?" she asked Danny. Danny shook his head, rivulets of sweat running down his face. "It burns," Marcy explained. "Like a sunburn, but worse. Mommy spanked me with that thing until I thought she would never stop. And then she spanked me some more. I kicked and screamed and cried. I even kicked my shoes off. I jumped and bucked like I was in a rodeo. My bottom was just flying everywhere. It hurt and burned so much! In fact, it's still a little warm." Marcy shook her head again and looked at Danny. "Are you sure you're all right? Danny nodded and tried to swallow. "Did she put some lotion or cream on you afterwards?" he asked. "She..." Marcy began. "Uh oh, the assembly is starting. I'll tell you later." Just as well, thought Danny. If he envisioned soft, thick, white, cool cream being smoothed all over Marcy's hot, red, chubby little bottom, he would surely faint, perhaps even die, from the pleasure of it. The principal stood at the podium and began to introduce a special guest speaker. A woman, the principal said, who knows the meaning of 'family values'. A loving mother who understands that affection and discipline go hand in hand. Someone who believes that a good spanking is every bit as important as a great big hug. Our guest today is known simply as "Dr. Kelly." Danny jumped in his chair and looked at the stage just in time to see his stepmother, Kelly, strolling toward the podium. She wore a blue silk close-fitting shift that skimmed her legs at mid thigh,with a matching, unstructured jacket that was almost as long as the dress. Her stockings were flesh toned and so sheer that at first Danny thought her legs were bare. Her pumps, the same color as her dress, were 3" high; the usual for Kelly. Oh no, Danny thought. A minute ago he was halfway to heaven and now, oh no, oh, please, Kelly, Mommy, please don't tell them anything. Don't let them know. "Isn't that your mom?" Marcy whispered to Danny. Danny closed his eyes and nodded while he prayed. "Hi boys and girls," Kelly greeted the students. "Hi, baby," she greeted, looking at Danny in the first row. "That's my little boy," she pointed to her son. "The cute, dark haired one sitting next to the pretty blond girl. Leave it to my Darling Danny to sit next to the prettiest girl," Kelly teased. Danny blushed from head to toe. He would rather be spanked than to have to sit through a lecture on discipline given by his mother. He would never live it down, either. Every kid in school would tease him about it. "How many here like to get spanked?" Kelly asked. "Raise your hands." she looked around the auditorium. "No one?" The students looked around wondering if there was anyone, even a smart alec, who would raise his hand. "What if I were to tell you that parents don't like to give spankings any more than you like to get them?" Kelly asked. The students murmured their doubts and whispered their certainty that their parents loved to spank. "It's true. Believe it or not," Kelly nodded. "No parent wants to spank his or her child. So, why do they?" she wanted to know. "Any ideas?" The kids looked at each other, shrugged, shook their heads. "Maybe they're just mean, terrible, awful people," Kelly suggested. "No?" Kelly confirmed the students' disagreement. "Well, let's try this. You're three years old. Mommy and daddy have told you not to run into the street. They've explained that cars come down the street very fast and that the car could run right into you before it had time to stop, or you had time to get out of the way. You go into the street anyway. You think that you can run faster than the car. Mommy or daddy gets you out of the street and scolds you. Maybe you get a 'time out'. The next day, maybe even the same day, you run into the street again. Mommy or daddy rescues you again. Another scolding. Another time out. Maybe this time you are sent to your room for a while. And you have lots of time to think about how much fun it is to run into the street." The students nodded, and laughed quietly. "Now imagine that you got your little bottom spanked for running into the street. And that while mommy or daddy was spanking you, you were told that the spanking didn't hurt as much as a car striking you. And that if you ran into the street again, you'd get spanked with a paddle." The students became quiet and nodded to one another, acknowledging their common experience. "You might not think it was so much fun to run into the street," Kelly advised. "I'm a child psychologist. I work with parents and their children on lots of different problems. The most common problem, however, is lack of discipline. Children misbehave, parents don't discipline, or don't know how to discipline. The children get hurt, they get into trouble. Every time, I recommend spankings, consistent spankings, for naughty behavior. I suppose that many of you think that you're too old to be spanked. That spankings are fine for three year olds. For children who aren't yet in school." Kelly looked around the room at the students nodding their agreement. "Well, let me ask you this. You're 12 years old and you want to go skateboarding. One of your friends has built a sort of ramp and you'd like to skate on it and fly off the end and onto the street. It's a dead-end street. There's no traffic to worry about. Sound familiar? Your parents will not allow you to use the ramp. It's dangerous. You could get hurt. You think about how much fun it would be to skate the ramp and fly into the air on your skateboard. You think about what your parents will do to you when they find out you disobeyed them. And you know they will find out." The students glanced furtively around the room. This had happened just a few weeks ago. "You think about being grounded; about not being allowed to do anything for a week or two. You think about extra chores you may have to do. And you decide that your parents have never been able to keep you on restriction for more than three days. And you realize that you only have to do extra chores for a day before beginning to whine about the unfairness of it and you do a bad job and your parents give up. And then you decide it's worth it. You can deal with a few extra chores for a day or two." Many of the students looked at the floor. Others smirked, having done exactly what Kelly had described. "So you go skateboarding. If, however, you knew that you were going to get spanked, perhaps a bare bottomed spanking over mommy or daddy's knees, first by hand and maybe finished with a hairbrush or a paddle or a strap, well, maybe you would decide that skating off a ramp constructed by one of your friends was not such a great idea." Several of the older boys squirmed in their chairs. "Your friend, Jason, thought it would be fun. He wasn't worried about being spanked. He wasn't worried about being grounded, either. He flew off the end of that ramp and wound up in the hospital with a broken arm, a broken leg and a cracked skull and, at least for the time being, he doesn't even know his own name," Kelly finished. The entire student body knew this story. Jason was a wild child and he had always gotten away with everything, which was why he had instigated much of the trouble other kids, including girls, had gotten into. "I have a 14-year old daughter and a 12-year old son," Kelly continued. And when either of them is naughty, their daddy or I spank them. Right on their bare bottoms, over our knees. Right, baby?" Kelly looked at Danny, who blushed in a hot wave over his entire body. "I spanked my little boy just last week for eating candy instead of his dinner. His tummy was upset because of that. And a spanking is not all he got." Danny looked at the floor and gave a sidelong glance at Marcy, praying that she did not know to what Kelly was referring. "My Danny was not one of the skateboarders. In fact, no boy or girl who gets consistent spankings for being naughty skated on that ramp. A skateboard accident hurts more than a spanking. Ask Jason. Your parents don't want you to get hurt. And they want you to grow up to be honest, responsible, good people. And that takes discipline, lots of it, as well as affection and encouragement. I've sent a notice home to each of your parents informing them of this talk today and encouraging them to spank each of you when you are naughty. I've also advised them to give "reminder" spankings, just a little sting on your bare bottoms, to let you know what is in store for you if you misbehave. Just so that you know that I practice what I preach, when I bring my Danny home today, I'm going to turn him over my knee, bare his bottom and give him a little reminder." Everyone in the room looked at the red-faced Danny, who stared at his stepmother with tears in his eyes. "I know you're embarrassed, baby, but, believe me, many of the kids in this auditorium today will be getting their little bottoms spanked, too. You can ask them about it tomorrow," Kelly told her teary son. The assembly over, students bumped into Danny, pushing him as much as they dared to with teachers all around. "We're all going to get it now, thanks to your mom, Danny," seemed to be the general consensus. "It's not my fault," Danny protested. "Leave him alone," Marcy insisted, pushing some of the boys back. "You all deserve a good spanking, anyway." Danny looked at her and smiled in gratitude. Marcy smiled back and shrugged. "I don't think mommy will spank me again today. I still remember yesterday's pretty well. And she spanks me pretty 'consistently'," Marcy giggled. Back in the classroom, Danny saw Kelly talking to Miss Appleby. They glanced at him and Kelly smiled. She reached out her arm to him and drew him into a big hug. He pressed his face into her soft hair, inhaling the scent of a garden after a Spring rain. Kelly kissed him with her soft, pale pink lips. "It will just be a little spanking, Danny darling," Kelly whispered. "No," Danny whispered back. "You spanked me last week and I've been good since then. I don't need another spanking," he insisted. "I'm the mommy and I am the one who gets to decide what you do or do not need," Kelly explained, rocking her son while she held him. "No," Danny protested. "Well, I see that we aren't even going to wait until we get home. I'm going to have to spank you right now. Right here in this classroom. In front of all of your friends." "No!" Danny shouted, trying to pull away. Kelly held him tightly. "Honey? I'll need your chair," Kelly advised Miss Appleby. Miss Appleby pushed the chair out from behind her desk and placed it in front of the class. Kelly addressed the students. "I told you I spank my little boy when he is naughty. And now you're going to see that I mean what I say. I told Danny I was going to give him a 'reminder' spanking when we got home and he told me I wasn't going to do any such thing. Yes, I am." Kelly sat down in Miss Appleby's big, oak chair. She unsnapped and unzipped Danny's jeans and pulled them down. She turned her weeping son over her knees and pulled down his white cotton briefs. The entire class was silent and frozen in their desks. "I was just going to give you a lightly stinging reminder, baby, but, since you were naughty, I'm going to spank you the way I usually do," Kelly informed Danny, whose tears spilled onto the floor. Kelly began her unique lazy-style spanking, landing lightly prickling bites on the middle of Danny's round, white, soft bottom. Danny immediately burst into tears and began kicking. Spank! Spank! Spank! "Danny always makes a big fuss right away, even when I'm not spanking him very hard," Kelly explained to the class, as she spanked back and forth across her stepson's chubby bottom. "Are you going to be a good boy for mommy?" Kelly asked while she spanked. "Yes! Danny cried. He never said no in response to that question. He couldn't think of a kid who would say 'no, I'm going to continue being naughty.' While Kelly spanked up and down his bottom, he wondered, between cries, why parents asked such stupid questions. Using the flat of her palm, Kelly spanked her small hand down to Danny's sweet spot, that place where thigh met cheek. Danny kicked his legs harder and yowled. "I want you to obey mommy. Do you understand?" Kelly asked. "Yessss! I'll obeyyyy!" Danny promised through sobs, his bottom stinging all over, that tender flesh at the tops of his thighs actually burning now. Spank! Spank! Spank! Kelly spanked back up and over her stepson's fleshy arch. Kelly brought her hand down over and over, though not nearly has hard as it looked and not as harshly as she had spanked Danny when he'd been naughtier than today. Her son's bottom was now red from her stinging attention and still she spanked, once again back and forth across each plump cheek. No one in the room dared make a sound. "It's very important, boys and girls," Kelly addressed the class to receive a good, sharp spanking all over your bare bottom so that you'll think twice before disobeying mommy or daddy again." "Mommyyyy, stoooop!" Danny shrieked. "Just a few more hard spanks, baby," Kelly said calmly and spanked Danny's burning bottom with five more hard swats. "There. All done." Kelly rested her hand on her son's bare bottom. "Who knows what's best for you, baby?" Kelly asked. "You do," Danny cried. "That's a good boy." Kelly pulled up her son's briefs and helped him stand. She pulled up his jeans, zipped and snapped them. She sat his sore bottom down on her lap, held him and rocked him. "This is the other side of discipline, boys and girls." Kelly explained. "I always hold my little boy and rock him and hug him after a spanking. I want him to know that I love him and that the spanking was to teach him to behave. I hope all of your parents cuddle you after a spanking. I hope they cuddle you even if you don't need a spanking. I snuggle with my baby every day." Danny, snuggling close to Kelly's chest, secure and loved in her arms, did not even blush. |