Chapter Four
Brian
God, I can’t believe this is happening! Mrs. Andrews has ordered me naked across her lap. Clearly she means to spank me, and not just with her hand. She’s holding that big hairbrush reversed now, with the hard wooden back facing forward.
I’ve been spanked before, of course. But I don’t think it’s happened in nearly ten years. And I’ve never been spanked on my bare skin, and never with any kind of implement. The thought of the coming punishment – surely the least harbinger of what I’m now committed to – is demeaning and daunting yet desperately affecting. I am not a little boy anymore, and on one level I resent being punished like one. Yet did I not used to fantasize about this very thing? Early in my career as a voyeur I used to imagine that Mrs. Andrews had caught m
