jordan

Jordan stared up at the large clock on the wall of this
sixth grade classroom. The huge black minute hand sat at 3:44,
deliberately dragging out its sixty seconds of allotted fame.
Jordan's mother would enter this classroom at precisely, (her
word) 3:45 p.m. to hear him read, while standing in front of the
class, his "Night of Discipline" report to his teacher and
classmates. Jordan sat squirming in his chair dreading the
movement of the clock's hand at least as much as he wished for
it, and for this entire ordeal, to be over with.

     His classmates had no idea what was coming. His mother had,
of course, made arrangements with his pretty teacher, Miss
Georgia Peachbottom, to end class time fifteen minutes early on
this day so that Jordan could tell all about the night he got
spanked twice; once by his Daddy and once by his babysitter,
Susan. There would be no detail too small to recount. The
entire humiliating episode would be played back for his
classmates. He would paint a picture so vivid in particulars,
the kids would feel as though they had been in Jordan's house
with him on the night he got spanked. They would swear they
could feel the heat from his bare bottom.

     The clock is stuck, Jordan thought. He could see that the
second hand had gone all of the way around the clock and still
that minute hand clung stubbornly to 3:44. He stared at the
pointed hand, throwing everything else around him out of focus,
waiting, expecting, the hand to move. When it finally lunged,
noisily and with enormous effort, to 3:45, Jordan jumped and
yelped. Miss Peachbottom looked up, the minute hand was pointing
at 3:45 and Jordan's mother entered the classroom from the back
door. All of the students looked up at the commotion, except
Jordan, who was still looking at the clock.

"Hello, Shania." Miss Peachbottom greeted Jordan's mother.
"Class, Jordan will be reading a very special report for you this
afternoon and his mother has rearranged her schedule to be here
to share this moment with her son. Isn't that nice?"

     The entire class chorused "yes", happy for the break in
their studies, and watched Shania walk between a row of desks
toward the front of the room.

     Jordan turned around and looked at his mother. Even though
he was only twelve, and Shania was his mother, he could still see
how beautiful she was. Her black hair was down today, slender
wisps touching her face, her neck and her shoulders. Her ebony
eyes were large with a thick fringe of long lashes. He watched
her stride toward him in her signature stiletto heels, sheer
flesh-toned stockings and a body hugging, plum suit, the skirt of
which grazed her at mid-thigh. The jacket plunged to her trim
waist where it buttoned snugly before flaring slightly over the
swell of her hips. The lipstick on her full mouth was a lighter
shade of plum than her suit and matched her long oval
fingernails. Jordan did not have to see her feet to know that
the polish on her toenails also matched. It always did. She
stopped at Jordan's desk and leaned forward him to give him a
kiss on his forehead, leaving a trace of plum lipstick.

     "Have you been a good boy today, Jordan?" she asked.

     "Yes, Mom." Jordan replied.

     "Mom? Did you call me 'Mom'?" Shania asked, her voice loud
enough for the entire class to hear. "Why isn't my baby calling
me 'Mommy'? You always call me Mommy," she said smiling while
the class laughed.

     Jordan blushed and looked at her imploringly.

     "Now, Jordan, what do you call me? Tell your friends," she
insisted.

     "Mommy," Jordan whispered. His classmates snickered.

     "Hmm? I didn't hear you, sweetie. Speak up."

     "Mommy," Jordan said again. The students giggled.

     "Jordan, I couldn't hear what you said," Miss Peachbottom
called to him. "Will you say that again?"

     The teacher stood next to her desk, her arms folded across
her chest, her feet crossed, as well. Her pretty blue eyes were
wide with feigned innocence. She wore a pale blue, low cut,
scoop neck dress, which pushed her full breasts up and together
into a few of inches of creamy white cleavage. The dress was
belted tightly at the waist and stretched across her plump,
rounded cheeks. Her panty lines could be seen when she turned
around and showed her wiggling bottom to the class. Her bare
legs were not long, but nearly every inch of them were showing.
She wore pale blue strappy sandals with a low, slender heel. Her
blond hair was permed into spirals that fell to her waist. Her
small, pouting mouth wore a glossy, pale pink lipstick, a color
that matched the nails on her slender fingers and little bare
toes.

"Mommy," Jordan said out loud. Now all of the kids were
laughing out loud.

     "That's my itty bitty angel," Shania said, patting Jordan's
cheek. She kissed his forehead again.

     Shania walked up to the front of the classroom and put her
large purse on a chair. "I'm going to stand right here while
Jordan reads his report," she informed Miss Peachbottom and the
class.

     "Wouldn't you like to sit down, Shania?" Miss Peachbottom
asked. "I have an extra chair."

     "No. No, thank you. I'd prefer to stand." Shania winked at
the pretty teacher.

     Miss Peachbottom winked back and smiled at Shania. The
teacher turned, bumped into her desk and knocked her pencil
holder onto the floor. She stepped around to the front of her
desk and bent over to pick up the pencils and the holder. She
did not stoop down, she did not bend her knees. Her dress
uncovered half of her bottom and showed all of the class her
stretchy blue bikini panties and a generous portion of each bare
bottom cheek. The class opened their eyes wide in amazement, but
did not make a sound until they saw Shania pointing and smiling
at Miss Peachbottom. She covered her mouth and pretended to
laugh and the classroom of kids burst into giggles. Miss
Peachbottom stood up and whirled around, her face pink from
bending over. She held the pencils and faced the class.

     "What are you laughing at?" she asked.

     The kids looked at Shania. Miss Peachbottom glanced in her
direction. Shania looked back straight-faced and shrugged. The
teacher looked back at her students, who were grinning, before
turning and walking around to the back of her desk. She glanced
at the class and then at Shania, who winked at her again. The
teacher looked away, frowning slightly.

     "Okay, Jordan," Miss Peachbottom said, looking at her desk,
"you're up."

     Jordan got out of his desk, picked up his report, and walked
slowly, with his head down, to the front of the class.

     "My night of discipline," Jordan began, speaking softly.

     "Speak up, Jordan. We can't hear you," Miss Peachbottom
said. "Begin again."

     "My night of discipline," Jordan repeated, raising his voice
a little. "Mommy and..."

     He heard the class laugh and looked up at the students.
Shania stood behind him and to his left. She pointed to herself
when Jordan said "Mommy" and then she bowed.

     "... and Daddy decided to go out for the evening. Mommy
told me I could stay up for an extra hour if I was in my
pajamas..."

     The class burst into shrieks of laughter. Jordan looked up
at them and saw them looking at his mother. He turned around
and, to his horror, Shania was holding up the cowboy and Indian
pajamas, with the short pants, that she had made for him.

     "Continue, Jordan-the-kid," Shania teased, to the delight of
the class and Miss Peachbottom.

     Jordan turned around, his face beet red, and began to read.
"When the babysitter arrived..." He was once more interrupted by
peals of laughter. He whirled around to face his mother, who was
holding a doll in her arms and rocking her "baby."

     "...I ran downstairs to answer the door," Jordan continued,
choking back tears. "The girl who was there was named Susan.
She is fifteen years old and very pretty."

      Jordan heard giggles and glanced over his shoulder at his
mother who was using her hands to draw an hourglass figure.

     "She lives next door and I, I'm, I..." Jordan looked
beseechingly at his mother. Shania pierced him with her black
eyes. "I'm in love with her," Jordan read to a fresh burst of
laughter. "When I grow up, I'm going to marry her."

     The class shrieked and even Miss Peachbottom laughed out
loud. Shania nodded her head and rolled her eyes.

     "When Susan came in, she made fun of my pajamas. Mommy told
her that sometimes she makes me wear panties and a dress when I
act like a girl." Jordan began to cry.

     During the outburst of laughter that followed, Shania took a
pair of pink panties out of her bag and stood behind Jordan,
holding the panties against the front of his jeans. Before Jordan
could continue with his report, Shania went back to her bag and
took out Jordan's white, frilly dress and showed it to the class
before holding it against the front of his body. She took the
report out of his hand and set it on Miss Peachbottom's desk.
She slipped the dress on over Jordan's clothes and handed the
report back to him. The kids were now laughing too loudly to
hear Jordan read but, through his sobs, he continued.

     "Mommy told me to tell Susan that when I misbehave, she or
my Daddy spanks me on my bare bottom." Jordan paused to cry.
"Susan laughed. And then Mommy told my Daddy to give a
'demonstration.' He picked me up and put me over his knees,"
Jordan said through his tears, "and pulled my jammy pants down,"
he sobbed, "and spanked my little," he wailed, "white," he cried,
"round," he moaned, "bare bottom." He cried in body-jerking sobs
while the class laughed at each description of his bottom.

     Shania picked up the doll again, lifted it's dress and
spanked its plastic bottom to peals of laughter from the kids and
their teacher.

     When Jordan was able to gain some control again, he
continued his report. "I went to my room, crying, and went to
sleep. When Mommy and Daddy came home, Mommy woke me up and took
me downstairs. Susan told them I should be spanked again and
Mommy gave me to her to spank. Susan turned me over her knees,
pulled my jammy pants down and spanked my bare, white, round
little bottom." Jordan held the report at his side, put his head
down and sobbed.

     "You're not through yet, Jordan," Shania said. "Finish your
report."

     Jordan pulled the report up and continued. "Susan spanked
my bottom until Mommy told her to stop. It stung and it burned.
It was all red. Just like when my Daddy spanked me. And I cried
just like a little baby girl," Jordan said weeping, "and I ran to
my room and cried myself to sleep. And the next day when I came
to school, I couldn't sit down because my bottom was so sore.
The end." Jordan put the report at his side and hung his head
while he cried.

     Miss Peachbottom began to applaud and the class followed.

     "Come here, Jordan," Shania ordered.

     Jordan walked over to his mother. Shania put her arms
around him and held him tightly.

     "That was an excellent report, sweetie," she complimented.
"I hope you remember, though, what I told you would happen if you
cried while reading it. Do you remember?"

     Jordan nodded. "Tell me what I said," Shania insisted.

     "You said you would spank my bare bottom in front of the
whole class," Jordan repeated his mother's warning.

     "Yes. That's right. You have to learn not to be such a
crybaby. So, I'm going to turn your over my knee and lift this
pretty, frilly dress of yours and pull down your jeans and your
little briefs and just spank your bare bottom good and hard," she
promised to the delight of the class. "And maybe afterwards we
can go shopping for some new panties for you. Those little pink
ones aren't quite big enough to cover your chubby little bottom
anymore. Your cheeks just bulge right out."

     The class, quiet and still in anticipation of the coming
spanking, erupted into fresh peals of laughter at the description
of Jordan's chubby bottom cheeks.

     "Jordan's going to get new panties," sang one of the boys.

     "Yeah, his bottom is too big for his britches," called out
one of the girls.

     Jordan hung his head and wept. Shania laughed at the
children's outburst. She tousled Jordan's hair.

     "Did you hear that, Jordan? You're too big for your
britches. That's what I'm always telling you. Miss Peachbottom,
I'll need that chair now."

     Miss Peachbottom got up from her chair. "You can use this
one. It's perfect for spanking. Isn't it class?"

     "Yeeeeees." the children droned, all having experienced a
bare bottomed trip over the teacher's shapely thighs.

     Shania sat down and reached under Jordan's dress. She
unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and tugged them down. She
pulled Jordan across her lap and lifted his dress so that all of
the children could see his underpants. She looked up at the
class and pointed to her son's little white cotton briefs.

The class giggled.

     "I see London, I see France,..." one boy began and stopped
at the laser-sharp look from Miss Peachbottom.

     She used both hands to lift the waistband of Jordan's white
cotton briefs and peeled them down over his pudgy bottom.
Jordan's body shook with sobs.

     "Usually," Shania informed the class, "Jordan is wearing
pretty panties when he's about to get spanked. Just like you
girls."

     The boys jeered loudly; the girls weren't sure whether or
not they were being insulted. Some of them blushed. Some of the
grinned. A few of them giggled.

     Shania began spanking Jordan's creamy white bottom cheeks
with brisk, sharp spanks. Jordan began to howl at the first
smack. Shania spanked one cheek, then the other, spanking back
and forth like a metronome, until both chubs were red.

     Jordan kicked, his jeans sliding down his legs. He screamed
at the hot bite in his bottom. He held the rung on the bottom of
the chair with both hands, his knuckles white from the effort.
His tears splashed onto the floor, his nose ran. He howled at
every stinging smack. The class remained quiet, all eyes on
Jordan's bottom and the hand that just kept smacking his red
skin. They winced at every spank, each of them knowing exactly
what it felt like and relieved it was Jordan and not them.

     Shania began on the underside of Jordan's bottom cheeks,
where thigh met bottom. She spanked with a full sideways swing
until Jordan's flesh burned. Not since the last time he got
sunburned had he been in such agony and he wailed.

     "Now this is something to cry about, Jordan," Shania
informed him. "Not reading a description of a spanking, but
actually receiving one. Do you think you can remember that?"

     "Yeeeees!" Jordan screamed.

     "Good," Shania said, spanking his bottom from thighs to
dimples and back again. "Then I think we are ready to go home."
She smacked once more in the middle of Jordan's bottom. "Stand
up."

     Jordan eased himself off of his mother's lap, his dress
falling to cover him. Shania reached down and pulled his briefs
up under his dress and then pulled up his jeans, buttoning and
zipping them just as the school bell rang, calling an end to
classes for the day.

     Shania gathered her things together and told Jordan to pick
up his books. She then told him to thank Miss Peachbottom and
the class for listening to his report and watching his spanking.
She walked him out of the classroom, the frilly white dress over
his jeans, and paraded him through the wide corridors, out of the
building, past giggling students and smirking teachers and into
the car.

                    *************************

     At home, Shania led the way up the stairs and into her
bedroom. She sat down
on the bed, Jordan stood next to her. She pulled the dress off of
him. She unbuttoned
and his unzipped his jeans and pulled them down. She took off
his t-shirt.

     "Take off your shoes and socks, Jordan."

     He used the toes of one foot to pry the sneaker off of the
other and then he
pulled off his socks.

     "Step out of your jeans," Shania directed.

     Jordan lifted and stepped until his jeans were off and out
of the way. Shania
pulled his briefs all of the way down to his ankles.

     "Step out of your underpants."

     Jordan stood naked in front of his mother.

     "Now go over to my dresser and choose a pretty pair of nice,
soft, silky panties
and bring them to me."

     Jordan walked over to his mother's dresser and opened her
panty drawer. He
looked at the colorful array of soft panties.

     "Choose a pair today, Jordan," Shania said. "Hurry up."

     Jordan picked up a pair of lavender silk string bikini
panties. Blushing, he
brought them to his mother. Shania took them out of his hands.
She smiled at the
blushing boy.

     "Step into the panties. If you cry like a little girl, you
should be dressed like one.
Besides, why should only girls get to wear pretty panties?"

After shania had pulled up her son's panties, she began to
question him.

     "Do you like it when Mommy spanks you?"

     "No," he rasped.

     "No? You don't like any part of the spanking?"

     "No."

     "Hmmm. Is there a part you like least of all?" Tell Mommy,
Jordan. Shall I get the paddle?"

     "No!" Jordan squeaked. "In front of people," he blurted,
still holding his breath.

     "That's too bad. Because I was just thinking that you would
behave so much better in church if I spanked you in front of the
entire congregation."

     "No! No! Please! Mommy, no!" Jordan pleaded.

     Shania laughed. "Well, I guess you had better be a very
good little boy for Mommy. You'll obey me, won't you my little
girl-boy? Without question. Right?"

     "Yes. Yes. I will."

     Shania gave his bottom a hard smack.

     "Ow!"

     "Or perhaps I should spank you in the mall. In the shoe
store. For staring at All the pretty girls," Shania suggested.

     His heart was hammering. He closed his eyes, visions of
little girls in pretty dresses, covering their frilly panties,
slipping their lacy socks in and out of shoes.

     "I'd have to pull your pants down in front of all of those
girls and they would see your pudgy little bare bottom. And they
would watch me spank you. And they'd hear you cry. Would they
laugh?"

     Jordan stared at his mother.

     "Well?" Shania asked. "Would they?"

     Jordan nodded, his legs trembling.

     "Over my knees, Jordan," Shania instructed.

     Jordan placed himself across his mother's lap.

     Shania slipped her fingers into the waistband of Jordan's
panties and pulled them down, just past his bottom.

     She held her son firmly at his waist and began to spank him
with quick hard smacks across his bottom. Jordan began to wiggle
and yelp immediately, his bottom still sore from the spanking his
mother had given him at school.

     "Be still, little boy, and stop making such a fuss. I'm
giving you exactly what you want. A spanking in private. Aren't
you happy there isn't anyone to see mommy spanking your bare
little bottom?" Shania asked.

     "Yeeeeees!" Jordan shrieked at the hot, hard spanks from his
mother's strong hand.

     "Then why are you carrying on so, little girl-boy?"

     "It hurrrrts! You already spanked meeeee!"

     Oh, I gave you just a little spanking at school in front of
your friends," Shania dismissed her son's complaint while she
spanked. "I would hardly call that a real spanking. Your bottom
is barely pink," she said, clearly annoyed at her son's tantrum
and landing sharper spanks across his bottom cheeks.

     "Owwww! It does hurrrt!" Jordan screamed, wiggling his
little bottom from side to side.

     "I know you can take a much harder spanking. I think you
are pretending it hurts more than it does," Shania accused as she
spanked the moving target. "What a naughty little girl-boy you
are! I'll give you something to shout about," she promised.

     "No! No, please! Mommy, no! I won't cry!" Jordan promised
even as he sobbed.

     "It's too late. You're already crying. Off my lap, naughty
boy," shania ordered.

     When Jordan stood up, his mother walked over to her dresser
and opened a drawer. She looked over her shoulder at her son,
who was staring back at her. She smiled.

     "I think I might be able to find something in here that will
teach you not to pretend." Shania moved things around in the
drawer.

     Jordan could hear the clinking sound of a belt, the hard
paddle sound of wood, the soft whoosh of a hairbrush. He stared
at his mother's back. His legs began to tremble.

     "Ah ha!" Shania proclaimed. "This ought to do the trick,"
she said, turning to face her son with a long, wide paddle.

     Jordan's eyes widened and he began to breath heavily.

     Shania waved the paddle up and down to demonstrate its
flexibility. Although at first glance it appeared to be a thin
wood paddle, Jordan now knew that it was leather.

     "No, Mommy, please!" Jordan begged, crying out loud.

     "What a little cry baby you are," Shania scolded. "You
should be thanking me for using a nice, soft, flexible paddle
instead of hard, immovable wood. I want to hear a little
gratitude from you right now!" she insisted as she walked
slowly across the room toward her son, waving the paddle as she
went.

     Jordan stared at the paddle, already fully aware of how it
would sting his already sore bottom.

     "Now, Jordan!" Shania insisted in her soft, firm voice.

     "Thank you, Mommy," Jordan choked, his eyes never leaving
the paddle.

     Shania sat on the bed and pointed to her lap. Jordan again
draped himself over his mother's thighs.

     She gripped her son firmly at his waist and raised the
paddle. Jordan closed his eyes tightly and clenched his bottom.
Shania smacked the leather down across one cheek and quickly down
again at the top of his thigh.

"Uuuuuh!" Jordan howled.

     "You naughty little girl-boy," Shania chastised, rasing the
paddle again and spanking her son's other bare cheek and landing
another smack at the top of his thigh.

     "Owwww!" Jordan clenched his fists and tried not to wiggle
his blazing bottom.

     Shania spanked each bare cheek again with a sharp smack of
the leather paddle. She spanked along the tops of her son's
thighs and over the division of his bottom cheeks in rapid
succession. Jordan shrieked and cried, as he pleaded with his
mother to stop.

     "Is this a spanking, Jordan?" Shania asked.

     "Yeeeeees!" Jordan howled.

     "Then what would you call what I gave you at school today?
Surely it can't be called the same thing," she reasoned.

     "It was a, uh, it was..." Jordan faltered.

     "Yes? It was a 'what'?" Shania asked, smacking the paddle
sharply on both cheeks.

     "It was just a, ooooh, uh, owwww, a kind of a warm up,"
Jordan blurted.

     "Oh, yes! Very good! It was a 'warm up, sweetie, so all
your classmates could get an idea of how Mommy disciplines her
naughty little crybaby, girl-boy. Well done!" she praised as the
paddle spanked each hot crimson cheek. "Are you ready to be a
boy now?" she asked.

     "Yeeeees!" Jordan agreed, using every muscle and all his
will to stop crying.

     "All right, sweetie, then show Mommy what a big boy you are,
and how well you can behave, by being perfectly still and not
making a sound, while I give your red little bottom just ten more
spanks."

     Jordan closed his eyes tightly, tensed his body and clamped
his teeth together. Shania raised the paddle.

     She spanked a stripe across one cheek and waited for a
reaction from her son. Jordan held his breath as the sting and
heat from the strap traveled over his entire body. The strap
landed again on his other cheek. Jordan exhaled in short bursts,
but he did not move and did not make a sound.

     "Now you're being a boy," Shania commented as she raised the
paddle again, spanking each cheek in succession.

     Again, Jordan held his breath and waited for the next two
spanks. Shania smacked the paddle down again in quick
succession, painting wide stripes of a deeper red across her
son's bottom cheeks. She continued until all ten of the promised
spanks were landed. Jordan did not move, did not make a sound.

     "Well, now, you see?" Shania said. "You can be a big boy
and a good boy when you want to. You just need a little
motivation. Just a little proper discipline, that's all,"
she said satisfied with both her and Jordan's performance. "Now
I'll pull your pretty little panties up."

     Shania put the paddle down and slowly and gently pulled the
lavender panties up Jordan's thighs and over his hot crimson
bottom. She patted his cheeks.

     "Get up now, sweetie. Mommy's all done. This time. You
behave yourself now, okay?"

     "Yes, Mommy," Jordan whispered. He slowly moved his aching
body off the bed. He reached to the floor for his jeans.

     "No, no," Shania admonished. "You won't be getting dressed
for the rest of the day. You stay in your pretty little panties
until it's time for bed. That will help to remind
you to be a big and well behaved boy," Shania decided. "Now come
sit on Mommy's lap and get a nice, big hug."

     Jordan sat carefully on his mother's lap, his bottom hot and
pulsing. Shania wrapped her arms around her son and held him
tightly.

     "What a big boy you are!" she exclaimed. Shania smiled as
she began to gently rock her son. A big boy, she thought, but
not too big to spank.