Allison - A Spanking Story Pt. 15

At the conclusion of Pt 14, I suggested that 15 would focus on what became of Elliot. Sometimes I think I am going in one direction only to find myself wanting suddenly to explore somewhere else. I think this story has 1 or 2 more additions prior to its conclusion. I hope you enjoy it.

*

I do have a suggestion for those not enjoying it, however. Should you find this story is not to your liking, stop reading it.

Lastly, someone recently commented about their disappointment about how the story lacked sufficient romance and "love." I've received a couple of comments like this.

They made me smile.

This is a work of deeply troubling, erotic fiction, offered to you free of charge. This is a fucked up story for those of us who get off on some twisted stuff. As much as I love it, I'd not want to be any of the characters in this story. If you are looking for a narrative about the purity of spiritual love and sex, this is not it.

*

This story takes place in the Perfect Beginning Universe. It makes brief mention of Michele's work.

For me, first time is always the most exciting. Compounding the excitement is the anxiety when at least one character realizes that they are not the person they thought they were.

This story takes place in a very male dominant society, one which is even more patriarchal than our own. Pete comes to realize that as he falls under Allison's spell, he does not measure up to societal expectations. These two young people are discovering and becoming as they grow together as a couple.

Psychological conflict and tension are central themes in this story.

*

The following is an outline of how this society operates. The Perfect Beginning provides a slightly more comprehensive description of the universe.

* People are legal adults at 18 years of age.

* People usually live to about 2,000 years of age.

* The cultural norm has almost all legal adults living with their family of origin until they turn 200 years old.

* Young people between the ages of 18 and 200 are treated as and referred to as children when they choose to continue living with their parents.

* Young people between the ages of 18 and 200 often behave much as we would expect teenagers to behave here in our world. They are kept in a state of arrested emotional development.

* Young people between the ages of 18 and 200 years customarily consume "blockers" which prevent them from having sexual feelings or impulses.

* Some young people will begin to "date" around 160 yers of age and while they are expected to continue to take their blockers, some will surreptitiously stop taking them while a few will stop responding to them.

* Age and masculinity are revered in this world. Everybody looks up to their elders and few seriously question the patriarchy.

All characters in the story are over 18 years of age.

It is customary for those below the age of 200 to demonstrate their status by wearing clothing which signify to others that they are off limits. They would wear what we would think of as children's clothing. Remember, an 18 year old and a 1,900 year old would look exactly the same age, so children's clothes are very useful for signaling to those over 200 years to abstain from any romantic or sexual pursuit of another who was deemed of an inappropriate age.

Lastly, sex is not technically illegal for people between the ages of 18 and 200 years. It is considered profoundly taboo. Adult-children (18+) do have sex but it is kept very quiet. Some parents punish their children for engaging in this sinful pleasure and adult-children almost never tell-on one another in this regard, even those who might not like one another. Adult children live by a code and violation of said code subjects one to complete ostracization. Almost none experiment until they are well over 160 years old.

*

"Oh my god, you are so needy."

He'd just asked her if she wanted a food rub while she did her homework.

"I thought maybe you'd like it."

"No." She continued peering over the top of her book, "You want to rub my feet for yourself. You were only thinking about yourself. You know how I feel about selfishness. I mean, is that something we all are just suddenly okay with?"

He had to turn his head, just then, to look out the window. This was insane.

She treats me like a servant! How does she even...! How can she say...!

"Look at me when I speak to you!" said crossly.

He quickly steadied his breathing and redirected his attention to Allison.

Looking huffy, she slapped him quite hard across the face. "You know better than to look away when I'm speaking to you, young man. I'll not tolerate disobedience on top of disrespect. Gracious!"

He faced her but his eyes were down cast. With his chin remaining down, he raised his eyes timidly, "Yes, Miss. I apologize, Miss"

Peter was beyond situational confusion. Much of the time he was so out of his mind horny for his babysitter that her outrageous demands were unquestioned.

Because Allison says.

They kept him perpetually aroused. He was a hypersexual and prior to his current situation, he needed to get himself off at minimum eight times a day, but often a lot more. This was how he remained regulated and relatively clear headed. The women would not allow this and he was kept without relief for days at a time. Unfortunately they saw to it that relief, when it came, was not really relief at all.

Yet he did have clear moments when he saw objectively how insane were many of the demands put upon him. He saw how insane his life truly was. He saw how insane was his own reaction to it all. Often this occurred when none of the women were around. Sometimes it occurred right in the moment of his situational craziness. This was such an occasion.

In this, there was perfection. Allison simply loved exercising and demonstrating her power and dominance over a boy.

She never once lost sight of just how much she valued this particular element of their relationship. In her mind, the impulse was part of what made a little girl, a little girl. In her mind, it was what made girlhood a wonderland in which she wanted always to live. She was clearly aware of just how much she loved being unreasonable. Leveling an unreasonable demand or expectation was titilating. To her, her access to this expression, outrageous unreasonableness, was a sacred element of dominating another person. And it was all authentic. She loved the unadulterated purity and righteousness of the entitlement inherent to it. She was not posing. She was not projecting. Her proven dominance earned her a refined sense of authentic entitlement. This was what no other girl had, none that she knew. It was pure girl-dom. This was why she'd always have a boy.

She wanted what she wanted and at moments, what she wanted was to be impossible and getting to be this way with at least one person, electrified her mind and body. She so enjoyed being outrageously unfair because not only did she rush with the sense of entitlement, it actually made her supremely horny.

The women were serious in their expectations of Pete and would not tolerate even a hint of defiance. If given any attitude, a spanking was in order and as serious disciplinarians, any of the women would gladly put him over her knee for correction. All of them greatly enjoyed administering correction, discipline and punishment.

Yet this was very much Allison's "thing." She liked baiting him emotionally. At times, they all did it, but it was simply more special to Allison. She enjoyed toying with his emotions, provoking him to the point he lost his bearing and gave her a reason to spank him. Being the unfair, imperious and tyrannical babysitter was her at her most little girl.

For this reason, she studied him.

She loved that there was some part of Pete still in there that wanted to be a man.

As she knew full well that his heart rate sped and his blood pressure just elevated, she relaxed further into her arousal.

Lowering her book to her chest, she fed him a spoonful of her cruelty. "What do we say about selfishness, Little Peter?"

Would he swallow?

She looked for his reactions. Pain and resignation would sooth her. Conversely, his indignation would be sublime as it was a spanking offense. She was on the edge of spanking him anyway as all she really needed was to imagine his discontent and she'd have him crying over her bent knee.

Happy girl!

Allison's arousal was building with the anticipation.

He steadied himself with the deepest breath he could manage despite his constricting chest, "It's not allowed, Ms. Allison." That went well. He sounded right, at least to himself.

He swallowed.

Yes, good boy. Swallow your medicine, little boy. Swallow. Spoonful at a time. Until later.

His eyes wandered to her feet.

She had little Barbie feet with the highest arches. He painted her toenails several times a week and was more than intimate with them. On this day, she wore her Keeds all day at school without socks. He knew because as ever, he assisted her dressing each morning. He'd have noticed anyway. He needed to smell them. He wanted to lick her feet desperately.

He thought back to the day before when she let him be her foot licking puppy dog.

*

"Little doggie just loves my stinky feet," she smiled down at him.

"Yes, Ms. Allison."

The smile vanished as she leaned forward and slapped him quit smartly across the face. In the voice of a very demanding little girl. "Doggies don't use words!"

Allison liked to play mind games and was an imaginative, young lady and enjoyed imaginary adventure. She was a 120 something year old. However she loved to imagine herself as a very mature, precocious, demanding and imperious 13 year old babysitter. Sometimes she seemed clearly to be a grown woman, despite her very youthful appearance. Other times, at her most demanding, she projected as quite a bit younger than 13.

As she reclined once more, he whimpered his doggie understanding. He knew he had that slap coming and cursed himself for irritating her. They were clearly playing doggie. He knew he needed to pay better attention.

As he licked her feet clean, she got ticklish and began giggling like a little girl. She kept letting him and she kept laughing and pulling her foot away only to let him lick a bit more. His cock was rock hard, but he was so happy to see her in such a happy, playful mood and to know he caused it.

Making her giggle like this, causing her such carefree joy, filled his heart with love. He was her puppy and in that moment, nothing else. He was excited to be her doggie. He might have had the biggest doggie boner but he was in love with his master and felt so connected to her. This was happiness for him now.

*

On this day, he was not thinking about the lighthearted joy he got from being her puppy dog.

I just wanted to do something nice for her.

This was largely true.

He did love the smell and taste of her stinky feet. He could feel his balls throbbing with need. He'd not cum in so long and the hornier he got, the more desperate he became to make her cum.

Foot licking invariably led to crotch licking, both activities he lived for.

His erection flexed and his balls got somehow heavier and ached with terrible need.

Certainly she knew he enjoyed attending to her but to describe it as selfish was mind bending and he wondered if she was so self centered that she did not see the irony.

The irony was her very favorite part.

"You are such an emotional, little boy," Allison declared in her uniquely superior way.

This was her sport and it infused her with a tremendous sense of wellbeing. Either by grinding down on what remained of his ego or stoking his insecurity, she found the most intimate and delicate pleasure. Letting go and riding her mood, just using her words, facial expressions and gestures to make him cry felt to her like "little girl play time." Bullying him this way made her feel special and she could feel her arousal burning hotter.

This was what the perfect, "nice girl," babysitter got to do to the little boy who was in love with her when nobody was around to protect him. It was deliciously naughty and aroused her in a way comparable to when he ever so gently kissed her crotch through her cotton panties.

Sometimes Babysitter is just so terribly difficult. Poor little boy.

In moments like these, she kept words like "mean" out of her self description. Especially when she felt herself as the babysitter, she was a "good girl," above all else. Her goodness justified her authority, at least partly. Allison knew there were a lot of reasons she was on top.

Allison was self realized and after going to so many Good Girls on Top support group meetings, she knew herself to be an emotional sadist and was more than comfortable with the realization. Yet when she played or otherwise managed her boy, she was invested in her role as the supremely good-girl, babysitter and he would always see her as such.

Peter knew she was right. He was an emotional boy. He did not, previous to this relationship, know this about himself but at this point, there was no denying it. Sometimes he was a mess.

His emotions were beside the point; he was just being helpful.

Even at her most condescending Peter was bedazzled by her shining, fresh-faced beauty. She seemed always to sparkle. While she did not walk about with a beaming smile on her face, when dealing with him, she revealed the pleasure of self satisfaction. There was pleasure in her realization of superiority. Sometimes her lips hinted at a smile yet her eyes revealed her true pleasure.

He could not look away from her perfect beauty and knew she deserved to be difficult.

She's perfect. Babysitter. Love her!

His emotions were about to overwhelm him.

So often he found himself fluctuating in his perception and feelings. One moment she was a selfish bitch but then he'd look at her, felt his undying love and knew none of that mattered. Notions of right and wrong bothered him, but he knew it did not matter. The sooner he made peace with this, the better. Failure to do so invariably led to punishment.

There was only one person in his whole world and he looked up to her. She was much younger than him, just a girl, but in all things, he answered to her.

Internalizing her barbed aspersions, he was not able to see that he was of any value at all. They'd made a great deal of progress in this way. She was bending his perspective and with her fierce will, her beauty and sex appeal along with spanking, he was far more inclined to think the way she preferred. If she said he was naughty or selfish, as absurd as it may seem on the surface, he was quick to wonder if it was true. He was highly motivated to see things her way. Any resistance to her assessment of his character was met with correction. If she said he was being selfish, his first response was to wonder how he'd been so selfish. All the women studied him carefully at these times such that any hesitation or disagreement in facial features was cause for correction.

Yet sometimes the preposterousness of her statement caught him off guard. Other times, it was simply not possible to agree with her, internally, at least. That's not fair! were the words that echoed through his head when this happened and his facial features made him an open book to the ladies.

His apparent indignation, no matter how mild or abbreviated, was met by a well pleased, closed mouth smile followed quickly with a bottom roasting. It could come from any of them, "I'm sorry, little one, but obstinance simply will not do... shame on you... how dare you... now you've done it... if you ask for a spanking, you will get one... I'm sorry but it can't be helped... Let's get you that spanking you seem to want so badly." With a brilliant smile and overly theatrical "exasperation," "When will you ever learn?"

In truth, rarely if ever was he a true source of exasperation to any of the ladies. One of the reasons he was treasured by them was that no matter from where they derived real world frustration, they could share it with Peter in the most productive way, with a spanking. They were convinced it was the most healthy exercise they could ever engage in.

Nothing was more disorienting to Peter than the sudden and utterly inexplicable emergence of a "mood."

He did not understand that by bending over and taking all of Allison's cruelty, cock hard, trying his hardest and failing each and every time to hold back his torrent of tears, he was the perfect boy for her.

Allison loved speaking down to him and did so a great deal. For her, underscoring the hierarchy was fun. Placing the text book in her lap, she readied herself, "Overly emotional, if you ask me. Just like a little girl." As an afterthought, as though spoken to herself, "He really does belong in panties."

Her response was ridiculous and in his mind, completely unnecessary. Yet he was likewise certain his erection just got somehow harder and smaller.

God, just say "no" if you don't want a foot rub! It's supposed to be for her! You're the one who's too emotional!

He knew it was for himself too but it did not matter as she was insane.

With her last comments, he bunched his lips and exhaled through his nose. Lost in thought and awash in emotion, he let down his guard. Had there been even a suggestion of ambient noise and more than a few feet separating them, it would have been undetectable.

Instantly, he regretted this hint of irritation. He knew better than to "act up" in any way when in this loving home. At times like these, he employed prayer:

Please let it go!

"Really? Are you serious, right now? Are you kidding me!" It was clearly a declaration of indignation masquerading as a question.

His jaw dropped and his eyes grew wide with fear.

This was why she kept a boy. This was why she knew that for the rest of her days, she would be a babysitter. Allison was a very moody girl and now she got to act on it.

Am I in a mood?

Instantly she realized she wasn't actually in a mood at all. She just wanted to go after him for the joy and exhilaration of it all. This was all about pleasure. This was her girl-sport!

The outside world saw her as prim and proper and this was an authentic reflection of how she felt and saw herself. Out and about, she was self possessed and a bit reserved. A few thought she might be a bit conceited and wondered if in her social reservation there might be a bit of superiority. For those who thought they might have glimpsed a bit of superiority, they'd come back to her projection as a girl, one who, if anything, dressed younger than her age. Could one think themselves superior as just a girl, no matter how prim and proper?

Though composed, Allison was supremely arrogant.

With a boy of her own, she could share everything. Not only did she get to be moody, she got to enjoy being moody. If Allison was anything, she was an emotional sadist and she loved traumatizing her poor boy. And he was hooked.

My little hooker. My poor, owned, little boy, spanking whore.

His big, beautiful panty sheathed erection told her all she needed to know about his need, even when she brought him to tears. She knew all about his confusion as it was a product of her design.

Poor, needy, little boy.

And she did not take it for granted as she relished getting to do this each and every time.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Allison, I did not mean too." His urgency to correct his misstep almost caused him to raise his voice in desperation. That would only make things worse.

Seeing his distressed, pleased and calmed her further. She'd employed an edge to her voice for the sole purpose of provoking his fear. His fear of her always made her want him.

She knew she'd have at least one orgasm just from spanking him.

Won't be long.

She had a little girl voice that she knew how to use it like a stern, adult woman. "Little boy has earned himself a spanking. Go to my bedroom this minute. And you'd better be holding the hairbrush when I get there." She was the embodiment of little girl authority.

"I'm sorry!" uttered with quiet desperation.

"No more apologies until I allow them."

"Yes, Ms."

It was happening again. He was going to that place in his mind that only the women of the house could put him in. He was overwhelmed with attraction and fear. He felt himself disassociating but following directions. His body operated as though by remote control. No matter how frightened he was, he'd never allow himself to disassociate to the point of non-compliance. Mouth agape and eyes wide, he walked to Ms. Allison's room.

How did I get here? How is my life like this?

He regained his awareness to find himself standing before and looking down at his babysitter. She looked radiant, projecting unadulterated happiness. He became fully present. This was, at least half the time she spanked him, when she looked her most outwardly happy.

Because she's going to make me a good boy.

She'd told him several times just how much well-being she took from helping boys behave themselves. It made sense for one so fundamentally good as Ms. Allison.

She peeled down to his knees his form fitting, baby-blue, knit, micro shorts to reveal his rock hard cock covered in the cutest, pink, cotton boy-short panties.

She was so pretty as he looked down at her and her outward joy informed him about how this spanking would go. Already he was on the verge of tears. He felt himself tremble as adrenaline coursed through his veins.

In her kindergarten teacher voice, "Why don't we get these panties down too, okay?"

Anxiety contorted his features as he found himself mindlessly nodding his head in agreement.

"Well look at that!" said as though surprised. "My big boy's penis is so hard! It's so little, I could not even see it through the panties." She laughed.

Peter had a very nice cock and they often, at least in the house, kept him in clothing that allowed them to monitor his arousal at a glance. It put them all in a good mood anytime they got to admire a submissive erection.

In response to his excitement, "Are you like just so in love with your babysitter that your little penis can't help itself?"

Wearing all his distress, "Yes."

Smiling broadly, she brought her hand up and slapped his balls smartly.

After going so many days without cuming, his balls already ached terribly. It took great resolve to stand just then and it took even greater effort to stand erect which was her expectation. Ms. Allison had very stringent expectations.

After he recovered, "That's, 'Yes, Miss Allison, I'm deeply in love with you.' Isn't that true?"

"Yes it is. I'm sorry. Yes, Miss Allison, I'm deeply in love with you. I really am!"

Smiling and with a light giggle, "I know you are, silly-head. But that's what we are doing here. I am making you more mindful."

She looked buoyant with joy.

"Thank you, Ms. Allison." He was inextricably drawn to her and was terrified of her. This was the insanity that he sometimes recognized and at other times just accepted as challenge. The spanking was going to hurt. There would be a great deal of challenge.

"Let's get you over my knee now, little one." She giggled mirthfully as he assumed the position over her left knee. As she secured him with her right leg, placed behind his knees, pinning him in place, "I was just thinking about how you used to think you were a man because you are so much older than me. Remember that?"

Snapping out of his dissociative state once again, "Yes, Ms. Allison." He knew she was stoking herself now and his stomach sank.

He was "the man." Girls wanted to suck his dick just hoping that he'd choose them as his girlfriend. Now he was bent over an under-schooler's knee about to take a spanking.

"Isn't that funny? I mean, I am just a girl." Again she laughed.

"I... I suppose, yes, maybe a little bit funny," he said as expected however unconvincingly.

"Well, at least I think it's funny. I remember the first time you began walking home from school with me. I remember how impressed you were with yourself. Now look at you. You get babysat by an underschooler. When you are naughty, you get a spanking, like right now. And I get to spank you anytime I want to. Wanna know a secret?"

He could hear the happy girl, sadistic pleasure dripping off of every word. The thing that fucked with his head so terribly was that it somehow made him more attracted to her. Uncertain, but needing to know, "Yes... yes, Ms. Allison."

He was not looking but he could hear the smiling joy, the unadulterated relish, "Sometimes I just like to spank you for no reason at all." He looked over into the mirror and there it was, the gleeful joy was all over her face. "I think it's because I think back to how you acted then." Mockingly, "Big, strong Pete was 'the man.'" More cheerfully, "Oh my god, that's so funny. Anyway, I think that's why sometimes I just want to bend you over my pretty, little knees and spank that bottom until it's cherry red and you are crying like a little baby." She laughed cheerfully. "You have to admit, it's pretty funny." If funny meant it made her cum every time, then it was hilarious. "But you see, it's all your fault; you should not have pretended to be a man."

"Yes, Ms. Allison."

"We won't even get into what you wanted me to do. That would put me in a bad mood."

No he certainly did not want that! "Yes, Ms. Allison, thank you."

"Anyway, let's get you what you deserve, okay," asked sweetly. "Let's get you that hot, hot bottom you deserve so badly."

"Yes, Ms. Allison."

With her hairbrush...

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

That was always the good part. It burned, certainly but there was something about it that he liked, though he did not know why. What came next was beyond traumatic.

"Bad!" SPANK

"Bad!" SPANK

"Bad!" SPANK

"Bad!" SPANK

"Little!" SPANK

"Boy!" SPANK

"Shame on you!" Reaching for a deeper vocal register in order to convey a deeper conviction, "Shame on you!"

He sank lower.

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

"You need to mind yourself, Little One."

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

"Yes, Ms. Allison!" While his agreement was suitably urgent, he managed to keep his volume down, least he gin up her vexation.

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

"Why I would not be a responsible babysitter if I did not correct your disrespectful little attitude, now would I?"

"No, Ms. Allison." He was already so lost to the trauma of the spanking that he was not sure if he was supposed to agree with her or not. Just to cover himself, "Always be respectful!"

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

"That's right!"

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

"You will always be respectful."

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

"If I did not know better, I'd say you were raised improperly."

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

"You march about this house a little boy pretending to be a big boy or worse still, a grown man."

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

"A little sass-bottom is what you are!"

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

"Sassy, little bottom!"

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

"Sassy, little spank-bottom!"

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

Peter began quietly crying.

"What are you?"

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

"I'm a... a..." He labored to calm himself enough to finish his sentence.

Allison loved this and happily added to his trauma.

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

Intentionally sounding nettled, "I asked you a simple question!"

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

Propelled, "I'm a little boy! A sass-bottom!" Was his voice too loud?

Please god?

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

"That's right and don't you forget it."

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

"You are just a little boy."

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

"You might be much older than me..."

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

"... and I might only be an underschooler..."

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

"... but your mother put me in charge."

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

"You..."

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

"... will..."

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

"... not..."

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

"... disrespect..."

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

"... your..."

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

"... babysitter..."

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

"... ever..."

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

"... again!"

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

"Do I make myself clear, young man?"

Quietly sobbing now, "Yes... yes... yes, Ms. Allison. I'm so sor..." He almost made a dire mistake. "Ms. Allison, may I please have permission to apologize now?"

SPANK SPANK

Primly, "Yes you may."

"I'm so sorry for being disrespectful, Ms Allison. I know I always need to show you proper respect. I'm just a little boy. You are my babysitter and I really, really do respect you so much."

She knew this to be true.

He continued through tears, "I think I sometimes just... I just... just lose sight of... or just lose perspective. I'm so sorry!"

"That's no excuse."

SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK

"I know. I'll do better, I promise!"

She was most pleased. She put down her hairbrush.

She placed her hand down, splayed over his very red bottom. With the merest hint of pleasure in her pretty mouth, she dug her finger tips into his red skin as she pinched it with her whole hand. She clutched his ass very tightly in her clawed hand.

In this act, performed after a real spanking, there was great satisfaction. After giving him such a sound spanking, it just felt gratuitous.

I'm doing this to you because I can and there's not a single thing you can do to stop me. Suffer for me! Mmmmmmm

To her this was a supremely masculine, not to mention a hyper arrogant demonstration of power. Perhaps less violently, but men had been playing around with women's asses since the dawn of time.

More like taking what did not belong to them. Well this does belong to me! Happy!

It burned terribly and he had to take it without reaching back. If he reached back, she'd spank him again with the hairbrush. He did his best to temper his crying by whimpering quietly. He did not want to provoke her.

Allison held her head high as she smiled down at his suffering.

She held as much of his bottom in her hand as she could manage. She clamped tighter.

She enjoyed his shuddering.

She smiled as she thought about what she was doing as the sadistic abuser move.

She drank in his suffering.

Little boy is shaking. Pretty.

She shook her had in a way that caused her nails to dig in deeper. It was almost like a wild dog ragging its prey to subdue it.

It burned terribly and just struck him as so over the top cruel. Yet when he thought back on all this and his cock throbbed and dribbled at the memory, this profoundly erotic vision would last as long as any other part of his discipline session with his pretty babysitter. Looking back on it, he'd remind himself that it was anything but cruel. He was the one who misbehaved and she was just helping him.

Allison was just strict and he admired that about her. Oddly, her strictness made him so attracted to her. Weirdly, he loved her more because of it.

Love her so much.

When her hand and wrist grew tired, she released her grip.

"Now to the matter of your selfishness."

spank spank spank spank

The spanks burned only because of what came before. They hurt but he liked these spanks. Every day he was spanked by all the women just like this. This was what they gave him before he got to go down on them.

This was connection. This was love. While it hurt some, he'd take this sort of spanking all day long.

He already saw it from her point of view but did not want to irritate her with an interruption or give her a reason to stop what they were doing and get him off her lovely knee.

spank spank spank spank

"I'll not tolerate your constant, selfish, 'Peter first' attitude."

spank spank spank spank

Now he could feel the pleasure in it all.

"I know as well as you do that you asked to rub my feet for your own enjoyment."

spank spank spank spank

He knew he told her before that he offered to be of service, to be nice but she was right.

I was being selfish.

His eyes were at half mast and he was actually drooling a little.

spank spank spank spank

"You wanted to rub them and sniff them and play doggie," said in her arched, little girl, trying to sound like a grown woman voice, or at least a very mature babysitter voice.

spank spank spank spank

"Yes, Ms. Allison." That was what he wanted, exactly. But he knew she'd like it too. What was he supposed to do?

Now he could feel the connection to the girl he was in love with.

spank spank spank spank

With these spanks, he could feel the fullness of his love for this special, perfect girl.

"When you ask to do something for me, you can't be secretly doing it for yourself."

spank spank spank spank

Now he could feel the head of his very hard penis rubbing on the soft, creamy skin of her inner thigh.

"When you beg to serve me, you must do so while only thinking about me and what I might want."

Now he felt nothing but love and desire.

"Yes, Ms. Allison. Always, Ms. Allison."

"Who wants to be my sexy-boy?"

"Please, I do, Ms. Allison!"

It was during these spankings that the women of the house sometimes praised and admired him. Sometimes while taking a spanky, on the verge of cuming, Allison or one of his Mommies would call him a "sexy-boy." This was important "praise" as it once more shaped his self perception as one who was less than, and one who possessed worth as it related to his desirability. He was sexy when he was the one bent over one of their knees and in a situation like this when a spanking morphed into a spanky, he was sexy when traumatized and openly crying.

He LOVED when they called him this and wanted desperately to be and feel like their sexy-boy.

spank spank spank spank

"Do I make myself clear, young man?"

She did. It was perfectly clear and utterly reasonable. This was the insanity that he lived with always. He could never actually do this but in this moment, draped over this perfect girl's knee, after having taken her spanking, feeling the entirety of is love wash through him, he wanted to believe every insane thing she said.

"Yes, Ms. Allison." He meant every word of his agreement. He also knew it was a short matter of time before he again disappointed her.

She spanked on and on in this gentle way. It continued to burn but he loved it up. This was when he fully internalized the truth that had been occasionally shared with him. He'd been referred to as a spanking slut and it was very upsetting to the boy. It was upsetting to be reduced to something so very shameful but it was far more upsetting because he knew it was true.

He took in a sudden, deep breath and his eyes went wide. It just then connected. To be their spanking slut and to be their sexy-boy was the same thing. He was being put down and praised at the same time.

In this moment, he was her spanking slut and he loved it. He felt himself as the slut and he could not get enough of it. This was when, in his mind, "naughty" and sexy were the same thing. Nothing turned him on more than being seen as the boy who deserved to be bent over and ravaged and used for a disciplinarian's spanking pleasure.

He dared to only gently squirm over her knee as she spanked and spanked. He was allowed to gently caress her calf by way of encouragement. He shared the softest whimpers and studied her in the mirror.

Each of them looked ready to cum. Allison had already cum twice while spanking him and soon he'd be licking her to a hard O. Conversely, he had to keep himself from a "little boy accident" or an "oopsie-daisy," by occasionally lifting his cock off her leg.

Eventually, she released her vice hold on his legs and he slunk to the floor for the beginning of their resolution.

Kneeling before her, he looked up at her while she, appropriately, looked down at him. She leaned forward, taking his face in her hands, "Are we finished with our nasty little attitude?"

She loved admiring the many tear streaks down his face as he nodded his agreement.

Very sweetly, "No more temper tantrums and selfishness?"

He agreed by shaking his head in the negative. She preferred him to be quieter at this juncture and it was much easier on him not to have to speak through traumatized breathing. He was then, a wet rag.

She leaned in further and kissed him.

And now it was all worth it.

She kissed him for the longest time and he just floated with his whole body filling up with helium.

So worth it.

Before he knew it, she was down to her white cotton, little-girl panties, lying on her back with her legs bent and splayed for his attention. He did what was expected and what they both wanted which was to gently kiss her crotch while smelling her deeply through the thin fabric. He sniffed her like a dog and she enjoyed every second of it. With each breath he became more addicted to her scent, her sex, her power.

He had to be careful not to cum.

This was his purpose. He was in heaven.

*

Somewhat early on in the relationship, Pete found himself unable to look away from the greatest, unasked question in his strange and strangely simple life. He'd sensed a discordant association between Allison and this particular curiosity but it almost seemed weird not to ask her directly. "What... is Elliot... I hope you don't mind me asking, but... what happened to Elliot?"

Allison gave him the look. She was not his babysitter just then. Rather, she was a pissed off, pretty girl. Perhaps his timing was off? Her focused irritation frightened him.

She took a deep breath and reasoned it was appropriate to just tell him even if it was still a bit of a sore spot for her.... even if it had been a bit of a poopy day.

"Mother sold him."

Another lightening bolt shot through him. Synapses snapped and with electric speed, he knew who and what he was to Allison and Mother.

Property. That's what I am!

His body chemistry fed his fear and anxiety. His hands trembled slightly.

In a short time together, he was fully invested in his commitment to being Carol's son.

Would Mother?

He felt a pang of need rock his psyche. If Eliot could be sold, so could he be sold, or given away.

Instantly he wanted to be suckling Carol's nipple, pleasing her and demonstrating his devoted supplication. She was the head of the house, after all.

He was desperate for comfort, just then. In moments like these, when he felt his pulse quicken and his chest grew tight and it got hard to breathe, when events overwhelmed him and he became frightened, there was only one recourse, and that was to be a good boy. If he was already a good boy, he had to become a better boy. Only the women of the house could help him with this. He was their little boy and he lived for their validation. If they said he was bad then he was awash in guilt and shame. Never was he more buoyant than when they told him he was a good boy. He often got this after making one of them cum.

What would he do without them?

Would his own mother, Hellen, allow this?

Maybe?

His very next consideration would always define him.

Allison decides.

Allison was his babysitter. If he understood his situation, and it was most certainly not discussed, he suspected Allison's ownership of him was primary. Certainly he was in love with her so his mind would forever more, go to Her.

Would she do that to me?

She tried not to smirk as she saw him swirling.

Around and around!

He was in an emotional whirlpool of her design and the poor boy had nothing to hold onto before going under. And they both knew he was going under.

She thought of Pete, who he used to be, the boy with all the pretend confidence and her mood was lightened.

She imagined him weeping as she sucked her off. She loved what she'd done to him and it dawned on her that It did not have to continue as a poopy day.

She'd enjoyed dozens and dozens of play spankies since she'd last disciplined him for anything.

Maybe for today, a real spanking.

She smiled in anticipation.