View Full Version : An Old Story that Hasn't been posted in a while
This story was posted a several years ago and hasn't been posted in a while so I thought I would repost it here for those who might be interested and who have never seen it. The writing well ran dry a long time ago, so old stuff is all I have to offer.:blush:
Disclaimer: The author is generally opposed to the real life spanking of children and believes it to be, at best, a bad choice. Nothing in this story should be misconstrued to suggest the author?s encouragement or approval of the real life spanking of children. The story is a product of a fetishistic imagination.
A Weekend Appointment with Mr. Maguire
Part 1: Parent Conference
He knew that the conference would not go well. He had seen his report card earlier in the day, knowing that his mother was to arrive at school in the afternoon, for one of the first conferences scheduled for after school had let out. Nine year old Michael Jamieson didn't expected a good outcome. Fourth grade was a lot tougher than third grade and it required a lot more work. Michael would rather play and have fun and daydream. He did a lot of daydreaming in class. Thoughts of pirates and spaceships and fishing were a whole lot more interesting than listening to Mrs. Everet talk about division or spelling rules or the proper formation of a cursive "Z". So Michael daydreamed a lot. And when he wasn't, he was usually getting into other kinds of mischief that good students should be avoiding. The results were definitely not good. His report card was worse than it had ever been before and Mrs. Evers was completely dissatisfied with both his "deportment and his effort". She was also far less taken with his boyish charms and his winning smile than his previous teachers had been.
At the conference Mrs. Everet a middle-aged and experienced teacher complained to Michael's 27 year old mother who seemed to her little more than a child herself.
"It is such a shame," Mrs. Everet stated. "He has a good head on his shoulders and is capable of so much more than he is willing to do."
"He could be one of my best students," the teacher lamented. "He lacks discipline and focus...and this needs to be rectified soon before it's too late." Michael's mother was at a loss.
Peg Jamieson did the best she could as a single parent. It wasn't easy for her to work full time and to raise Michael on her own. Now make no mistake about it, Michael was a good boy, just not really interested in being anything but a boy. He enjoyed playing and having a good time. Responsibility wasn't his forte but having fun was. He was a lovable boy with a broad smile and a way of charming others. It just seems that his charm wasn't working with Mrs. Everet.
"I just don't know what else to do," complained Michael's mother. "I've tried all sorts of things to try to motivate him---punishment, making deals, praising him. Nothing seems to get through."
Mrs. Everet knew she had the answer. "Do you know Ethan Maguire?" she asked.
"Isn't that the older gentleman who lives in the big house on Mulberry Street?" asked Mrs. Jamieson. She knew she had seen him in town and heard his name mentioned. Although, having only moved to the area recently after her divorce, she really didn't have much information on the community's history.
"Yes," said Mrs. Everet. "I believe Mr. Maguire is now in his 60's. He's been a member of this community for many years and is well-respected. He's a wonderful man, kindly and caring but I must also add he can also be very determined. He's helped us with a number of boys who needed a firmer hand than they seemed to be able to get at home. Since he retired about 6 years ago, he's accepted referrals from a number of different sources including the school and the local police and has been instrumental in turning boys like Michael around."
Mrs. Jamieson looked a little perplexed. "What do you mean?" she asked. "This sounds pretty ominous."
Mrs. Everet laughed. "No, not at all," she replied. "You won't meet a finer, more caring man than Ethan Maguire. He is really quite grandfatherly. And he truly cares about the boys referred to him."
Mrs. Everet's look turned serious. "He does, however, take the needs of these boys quite seriously and is determined to make a difference for them and their families."
Mrs. Jamieson looked more perplexed than ever.
Mrs. Everet continued, "Mr. Maguire takes referrals and the boys report to his home for a weekend. During their time there, the boys..."
The teacher paused in mid-sentence and looked at Michael's mother squarely in the face.
"Mrs. Jamieson, has Michael ever been spanked?" she asked with little emotion in her voice.
Peg Jamieson was initially taken aback. "Well...no, not really," she volunteered. "When he was little, a swat or two for doing something dangerous perhaps but that's all."
"And what sort of discipline do you use?" the teacher asked.
Mrs. Jamieson looked a little embarrassed. "Well, it seems I do a lot of yelling and pleading," she confessed. "I'm really so tired most of the time that I mostly let things go that I know I shouldn't. It's hard without a father in the house to help."
Mrs. Everet smiled. "Ethan Maguire can help. And I am sure he will if you want him to."
Mrs. Jamieson listened intently as Mrs. Everet explained. "Mr. Maguire is a fair-minded man but he also has high expectations for children. It would be beyond his understanding how a boy as bright and talented as your son can be behaving in such an irresponsible way and...Well, simply put, he doesn't tolerate such behavior."
Michael's mother grew more and more interested in the possibility of getting some help from Mr. Maguire as Mrs. Everet continued.
"Mr. Maguire is a firm believer in old-fashioned values when it comes to disciplining children. He believes in rules and making sure that boys follow through. He demands responsibility and will tolerate nothing less that consistent effort," assured Mrs. Everet. "No, I am afraid Mr. Maguire would have a good deal to say to young Michael...and I can assure you much of it would get spoken without words."
A puzzled look crossed Mrs. Jamieson's face. "What do you mean," she asked.
"Mr. Maguire is a firm believer in spanking for little boys who need discipline. And he has had great success in the past with his methods," the teacher explained.
"Spanking? I'm not sure about that.." answered Mrs. Jamieson her voice trailing.
"It's up to you," the teacher responded nonchalantly. "But you certainly need something to get this young man on the right track. It's such a waste how he's allowing his silliness and daydreaming to get in the way of using his abilities to their fullest."
Peg Jamieison knew the teacher was right. Something did need to be done and done quickly. She also knew that at this point she just didn't have the energy to do it all herself. Maybe Mr. Maguire could help. Maybe spanking could be the answer for Michael.
"So how would this work if I did want to have Mr. Maguire help us?" she asked.
"If you are sure about proceeding, I can make the arrangements for you. We've done this before in other cases and it has definitely helped a great deal," answered Mrs. Everet.
"Maybe a good spanking would be helpful," thought Peg. It wasn't something she was really familiar with having never been spanked herself when she was a girl but she knew others who had been and who were very much in favor of it with children.
"Okay," she announced with determination. "I sure think that it is worth a try. Something needs to be done and I'll be glad for any help Mr. Maguire can give me."
Mrs. Everet smiled, "Good. I will make the arrangements."
"When will this weekend with Mr. Maguire take place?" asked Mrs. Jamieson.
"I can't be certain," answered the teacher "but I am sure he will get to Michael as soon as he can. He does get referrals from several sources and can be quite busy at times. Report card time is often one of them."
"You will be contacted by mail," the teacher continued. "He'll send you information about the when and where of it along with some information about what you need to do. I'm sure you'll get this very soon as I will be calling him today to arrange things."
A sense of determination filled Mrs. Jamieson. She had no reservations. This needed to be done and Michael needed to be moved in a better direction. As she shook Mrs. Everet's hand thanking her for her efforts on behalf of her child, Peg was certain that she welcomed the intervention that Ethan Maguire was soon to undertake.
Part 2 next
Part 2: An Envelope in the Mail
Michael really didn't understand what all of this meant although he got the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that it wasn't good whatever it was. His mom had been very quiet that evening after the conference with his teacher. He thought he was going to be in real trouble and that he'd get yelled at or have TV taken away for a few days but neither of those things happened. His mom had simply been really quiet. And she stayed quiet up until the time he went to bed.
The next night at the supper table, Peg Jamieson very quietly told her son how disappointed she had been as what his teacher had had to tell her and how it made her sad to think he was wasting his ability and not doing as well as he could. This made Michael feel badly. But it had made him fell badly before too. This was not the first time he had had almost identical conversation with her. This time was a little different though. This time she didn't yell. This time she didn't threaten. This time she didn't take things away from him that he knew she would relent on in a few days. This time she talked about some arrangement being made by his teacher.
"Mrs. Everet is working with me, Michael, and she's helping to make arrangements for someone to work with you and help you to learn about responsibility and doing what is right," she explained.
"What could this mean?" Michael wondered to himself.
His mother continued, "We're going to be getting some information in a few days from a man that Mrs. Everet knows. He works with little boys like you and helps them to learn to do better."
"How does he do that?" Michael asked truly curious.
"I'm not exactly sure," his mother answered, "not completely but Mrs. Everet tells me that he spanks little boys who do not do the right thing."
"I don't get spanked," Michael protested quickly.
"I'm afraid that when you meet with Mr. Maguire, you will." Peg replied reaffirming her resolve.
"You mean this guy is going to hit me?" Michael continued to protest.
"No, he's going to spank you," she explained. "That's different from someone hitting you. Spanking is what has happened to naughty children for hundreds of years for not doing the right thing. It's how children need to be punished sometimes when they misbehave."
"You never spanked me and neither did dad," Michael added, thinking that he really didn't know what it meant to be spanked but also thinking that from the little he did know it couldn't be good.
"No," his mother admitted, "but maybe we should have. Something is needed to get you to make a change."
Both were silent.
"I've made up my mind," said Peg, "and your teacher has made the arrangements. All that's left is for the information to arrive and for you to be scheduled for your visit with Mr. Maguire. You'll spend a weekend with him..."
"But moooommm," Michael pleaded only to be cut short.
"No, "buts" Michael. The decision is final and you will be visiting Mr. Maguire. So you might just as well get used to the idea sooner than later."
A large manilla envelope arrived in the mail the very next afternoon. It contained all the information Peg Jamieson needed to proceed. Included in the envelope was some basic information about Ethan Maguire and an explanation of his belief in the effectiveness of spanking in raising children. It also included information about his background and his years of involvement in his community and an up-to-date policy security check. No doubt about it, he was a pillar of the community and well respected, with affiliations to school groups, civic groups and even various law enforcement agencies. Michael would be in good hands.
A list of things that would be needed was included on a list. These were sparse. Obviously, toiletry needs were included-toothbrush and that type thing, one change of outer clothing and several changes of underclothing. Simple rubber sandals were included on the list as was a request for Michael's schoolbooks and any pending homework assignments to be brought. The list, however, was more a list of what not to bring than a list of what to bring. No recreational items at all were to be included. Toys, radios, candy or other edible treats were strictly prohibited. It certainly was not intended to be a weekend of fun and games.
There was also a paper that clearly described Maguire approach during the weekend visit and the need with many boys for follow-up sessions to reinforce the work done that first weekend. There was a document for Peg to sign which granted Maguire "in loco parentis status" and afforded him the authority to both care for and discipline her son while staying at the Maguire home.
The time of Michael's arrival for his weekend encounter with traditional discipline and responsibility had been set. Mrs. Jamieson would transport him to Mr. Maguire home on Friday night promptly by 4:00 p.m. At that time Mr. Maguire would meet with her briefly while Michael unpacked his belonging. After determining that all paperwork was in order, Mrs. Jamieson would leave, allowing Mr. Maguire to begin the process of turning an irresponsible boy into a responsible one. Michael would be left in the capable hands of Mr. Ethan Maguire until pick-up time at 7:00 p.m Sunday evening.
Part 3 next
Part 3: Friday Afternoon Lunch Period
"Is it true?" Bobby Wilson whispered to Michael as they sat together during the lunch period in the cafeteria.
"What?" Michael asked, not hearing the question being consumed with thoughts of the event that would commence in just a few hours.
"Is it true?" Bobby repeated.
"What do you mean?" asked Michael.
"I overheard Mrs. Everet telling the principal that you were going to Mr. Maguire's tonight."
"You know Mr. Maguire?" Michael asked in hushed tones not wanting anyone else to hear.
"I sure do," answered Bobby, "So is it true?"
Michael blushed involuntarily. "Yes," he whispered his voice cracking, "It's something my mom worked out with Mrs. Everet."
There was silence and then Michael asked, "How do you know Mr. Maguire? Have you been to see him?"
Another silence ensued and this time it was Bobby who was blushing.
"Yes," he answered quietly, "I've had a weekend with Mr. Maguire and sometimes I still go see him if my mom thinks it's necessary. Now it's not like that first weekend but it's enough, believe me."
Michael's head was spinning. "Mom says he's gonna spank me," confided the boy to his friend.
"Oh, he's gonna spank you alright...and not just once. And he spanks hard too...real hard"
Both boys were silent again.
"He spanks a lot harder than my mom does," confided Bobby, "And it takes a lot longer too."
"I've never been spanked, ever," said Michael, tears beginning to well in his eyes. "Is it real bad?"
Bobby thought about the question before answering wanting to be as honest as he could with his pal.
"It's really scary beforehand while you're waiting knowing that a spanking is coming and you just have to wait for it," he began.
"After it's over, you feel better from crying and pretty soon you don't hurt as much and even though it feels pretty bad, it ain't soooo bad."
This last made Michael feel a small bit better.
"But while it's happening," explained Bobby with a sense of real seriousness in his voice, "it's really terrible. Mr. Maguire spanks you on the bare butt and he smacks you really hard and a lot of times. It makes you cry like a baby right away and it really feels terrible. You want it to stop so bad but it doesn't and there is nothing you can do about it."
Michael's heart sunk.
"That Maguire is a real asshole." Michael pronounced to his friend who was surprised by the outburst.
"Nah," said Bobby, his voice's tone changing to a much softer range. "Mr. Maguire is really a very cool guy."
Michael looked confused.
"I know that sounds weird after what I just told you," said Bobby, "but it really is true. He's great. And I really love him. He only does what he does to help boys. And giving boys spankings is only one of the ways he helps you out. He listens too. I like it a lot when he listens. It makes you feel like what you have to say really matters."
Michael was more confused than ever as the bell rang to signal the end of the lunch period.
"It's gonna be tough," Bobby warned Michael as they parted to head in different directions, "but you'll be okay and you'll see what I mean about Mr. Maguire. I promise you will."
Part 4 next
Part 4: 4:00 P.M. Approaches
Michael didn't have much to say when he arrived home after school. He kept mulling over in his mind the things his friend, Bobby, had told him. He was sort of trembling inside. He was both afraid and even a little curious about what the weekend would bring.
"How bad can it be?" he thought to himself sitting in the big overstuffed chair in the parlor, nervously fiddling with his shirt buttons.
"Boys my age get spanked all the time," he thought, trying to ease his building trepidation, "They all get through it and are okay. I'll be okay too. I'm just scared cause I've never been spanked before."
He started to feel a little better. "Bobby says it's gonna really hurt but still Bobby's okay and he even likes this Maguire guy." Then he felt that uneasy feeling in his stomach begin to become very obvious again and suddenly he was as disquiet as ever.
"Mom, I don't want to go," Michael spoke in a sad quiet voice as his mother approached.
Peg Jamieson was close to changing her mind, feeling like she was betraying her only child but then the words replayed in her head: "Mr. Maguire is a fair-minded man but he also has high expectations for children. It would be beyond his understanding how a boy as bright and talented as your son can be behaving in such an irresponsible way and... you certainly need something to get this young man on the right track. It's such a waste how he's allowing his silliness and daydreaming to get in the way of using his abilities to their fullest."
Mrs. Everet was right. Peg knew it and believed it.
"I know you don't want to go, Michael," she answered quietly, "and I wish you didn't have to...but you do. You're a great kid and I love you very much but you need to be taught some responsibility and that there are sometimes unpleasant consequences to your behavior. Mr. Maguire understands boys like you and he'll help you with this."
There was silence.
"And I am not changing my mind on this," she continued as much to assure herself as to assure him.
It was now twenty minutes to four and Peg knew that the drive to Mr. Maguire's house would take about 10 minutes. She did a last minute review of the paperwork in the manilla envelope---again checking to make sure she had filled everything out correctly and that she had followed the direction completely. She had had the "in loco parentis" document signed and notarized as directed and had packed a small case to carry the sparse items that Mr. Maguire required Michael to bring with him. Everything was in order. A very long weekend for both mother and son was about to begin.
"It's time to go, honey," she said trying to put in her voice a tone that would help Michael understand both the love she felt for him and the determination with which she was ready to proceed no matter how difficult.
"Please mom, don't make me go," Michael tried with one last effort his eyes filling and a single tear falling down his cheek.
"Come on, Mikey, we don't want to be late. I am sure Mr. Maguire would not be happy with you if you were late," she said noticing the tear but forcing herself not to react.
Michael got up from the chair, resigned, and finally understanding that his mother was not going to change her mind. Peg Jamieson picked up the manilla envelope and the little bag and walked behind her son as they headed toward the door in silence.
As they walked, Mrs. Jamieson glanced at her son's plump little bottom encased in his crisp cotton slacks. Sooner than she knew, those slacks would be gone and Michael's fleshy, bare buttocks would be positioned over Ethan Maguire's lap ready to be spanked for the very first, but certainly not the last, time.
Part 5 next
Part 5: The Weekend Begins
Peg Jamieson parked her car almost directly in front of 534 Mulberry Street, a large white house much bigger than would be needed for a single indivudal. But it was here that Mr. Ethan Maguire now lived alone.
At one time the house had been full. Ethan Maguire was a family man. He had lived in that house over the decades with his wife and two sons. His wife had passed away just after his retirement and his sons were long since married and moved away raising families of their own. Although he saw his sons and grandchildren as frequently as possible, schedule and distance made those visit not near as frequent as Ethan would liked. To fill his time, he devoted himself to the boys who were referred to him. He considered them a part of his new family, boys whom he felt he was helping to raise.
In some ways Ethan Maguire was a man of contradictions. He was soft and hard at the same time---charming, intelligent, reasonable and caring but also demanding and a man of high standards set for himself and for others. It was these varied characteristic that made his work with the boys so meaningful and generally so successful. His motivation was genuine and caring yet he was certainly no pushover and demanded effort and accomplishment. He was also a firm believer in accountability and paying the price for one's bad choices. During the impending weekend, Michael Jamieson would learn all of this about Ethan Maguire. He would also learn a good deal about himself too.
"It's time," Peg Jamieson motioned to her son who sat very still in the front seat of their car. As she spoke the front door of Mr. Maguire's home opened and Michael watched as a mother and her son, a boy of about 8 years old exited down the walk. They walked slowly and deliberately and it was clear to Michael that the little boy was crying. Michael wondered if the boy had just been spanked. He thought he might have. Michael was right.
Resigned but more than a little frightened, Michael opened the car door and got out. His mother grabbed the envelope and bag and joined him on the sidewalk. They began the walk toward Mr. Maguire's gate where they passed the mother and little boy who had just left the big white house. Peg Jamieson nodded politely to the other mother who gave her a knowing look. Michael tried unsuccessfully to catch the eye of the crying boy who kept his head lowered as he passed.
They stood before the front door. Mrs. Jamieson reached out and pressed the doorbell. On the outside they could hear the loud chime and footsteps as they approached the other side of the door. The knob turned and the latch clicked and the door swung open.
"Hello," a cheery voice greated them. "Welcome."
"Are you Mr. Maguire?" Peg asked fairly certain that the question's answer was already certain.
"Yes, I am," the smiling older man said. "And you must be Mrs. Jamieson and Michael." He reached out and took Peg's hand giving it a warm squeeze of a handshake then doing exactly the same with Michael.
Michael relaxed a bit. "So THIS is Mr. Maguire?" he thought to himself as he looked at the tall, thin man with the bald head and grey/white hair on the side. "He doesn't look so scary."
Michael was right. Ethan Maguire was not any kind of Boogey Man. He was just about the furthest thing from it. He presented as a very typical sort of grandfatherly type---like one you might see on a TV show from decades earlier. He smiles broadly and there was kindness in his face and his eyes seemed to hold a hint of mischief.
Mrs. Jamieson was relieved. The presence of Mr. Maguire closely matched all the positive things she had been told and had read about him in the material he had sent. Mrs. Everet was right about this man. She could feel it. She knew he cound and would help.
"Come in," Maguire motioned and the two visitors stepped over the threshold and into the hallway.
Maguire reached for the small bag from Mrs. Jamieson's hand. "Here, let me carry that for you," he offered, "Come, follow me. Let's go into Michael's room for the weekend before we go to the office."
Mother and son followed behind the man who let them to the end of the hallway and then around the corner down another long hallway. They passed several closed door until they reached on at the far end. Mr. Maguire took a key out of his pocket, unlocked the door and opened the door wide.
The room was a larger than average sized bedroom with less than the average amount of furnishings. A single bed was pushed against one wall, neatly made but dressed with a plain blue bedspread and a small pillow. To one side was a small two-drawer chest and to the other side a tall, straight back wooden chair. A small wooden students desk and chair was placed on the other side of the room. Above the desk was a closed wooden cabinet. On the third wall was both the entrance to a closet and the entrance to a small bathroom connected to the bedroom. On the remaining wall was another door in the center, at present closed, that opened into a corridor that lead directly to Mr. Maguire's Office. Of interest, was the fact that wherever there was emptly wall space, there were a number of hung mirrors that made the room seem even larger than it was and also made you feel that no matter where you stood in the room you could see every other place too.
"Michael," Mr. Maguire smiled, "say 'goodbye' to your mother and then begin unpacking your bag. Put your clothes in the chest and your school books on the desk. Your toiletries can go in the bathroom." He was pleasant but directive and there was an edge to his voice that clearly indicated that there was no question regarding who was in charge.
Peg Jamieson threw her arms around her son and kissed him solidly on his forehead. Michael said nothing. He knew if he did he would immediately start to cry and he didn't want to do that. Not in front of his mother and not in front of Mr. Maguire. He really didn't know why but it suddenly became very important to him.
Mrs. Jamieson was having a greater problem holding back the tears but she was determined to see this through. There was nothing to worry about and it was for Michael's good.
Mother and son hugged tightly as Mr. Maguire moved the action with his words.
"Now Michael, do as I told you," he stated directly. "You'll see your mother on Sunday night."
"Be a good boy," Peg Jamieson told him, a rather ironic admonition considering the circumstances.
"That's exactly why we are here, Mrs. Jamieson," responded Ethan Maguire to her remark. "Michael and I will work on that together, won't we Michael?"
Michael look at this man understanding that something important was about to begin and shook his head slightly.
"I can assure you," Maguire continued, "that when Michael and I have finished our work together, we will all be proud of our accomplishment."
Maguire and Mrs. Jamieson turned to the door in the middle of the wall. Ethan unlocked it and Mrs. Jamieson passed into the hallway not looking back knowing that she certainly would cry if she did.
As Maguire began to close the door, he looked at Michael. "Get busy with your work now and when you are done sit on the bed. After I get things settled and have sent your mother on her way, I will be back."
And the door closed.
Part 6 next
Part 6: Waiting and Talking
Michael could hear the click of the lock and two sets of footsteps quickly disappearing into silence. He felt so alone. At first he didn't move, hoping he would soon wake up from this silly dream. But he wasn't asleep. This was about as real as anything he had ever experienced.
The boy opened his bag and surveyed its contents. There really wasn't much there: a pair of pants, a shirt, socks, several pairs of underpants, his toothbrush and some toothpaste, shampoo, floss (oh how he hated floss) and a pair of those rubber shoes that people wear at the beach with the piece that slides between the toes to keep them on. And his schoolbooks with more than the usual amount of homework that Mrs. Everet had apparently put together just especially for this weekend. "Except for way too much homework, not much at all in this bag," he thought.
Michael began doing as he had been instructed. He hung his pants and shirt in the closet on hangers. The rubber sandal were placed together neatly on the floor of the closet. In on drawer of the small bureau, he arranged his underpants and socks surprised at how much more neatly he was doing these things here than he would ever have done at home. Finally, he went into the bathroom with the rest of his things and put his toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo and floss in the medicine cabinet.
"Done," he thought to himself, checking to make sure that he had done everything that Mr. Maguire had asked him to do. He was satisfied that Mr. Maguire would be pleased when he came back as he sat on the bed.
It seemed an eternity, even longer than detention recess in the principal's office at school. He hated the waiting but on the other hand he wasn't at all eager for Mr. Maguire to return. Michael looked around the room, surveying was was to be his residence for the weekend. The mirrors provided the eerie feeling that he was not alone---everywhere he looked he could see some part of his image at some angle. Then his eyes were drawn to the closed wooden cabinet above the desk.
He got off the bed to examine it more closely. He tried the door but as he expected the cabinet was locked. The small chest had been empty as had the closet and the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. Perhaps this cabinet was also empty. Although it was the only thing that was locked. Michael was sure that Ethan Maguire had the key.
"Interested in that cabinet?" Mr. Maguire asked as he opened the door.
Michael flinched, taken aback by the unexpected presence. "Uh..uh," he stammered, not sure what the correct response was.
Ethan Maguire smiled, "Just have a seat, son," he spoke softly.
This was all so very confusing to Michael. Everyone made him feel that this weekend was not going to be a good time but Bobby had said that he loved Mr. Maguire. And everything that Michael had seen so far suggested to him that Mr. Maguire was a gentle man who was certainly more like a grandfather than a someone of whom to be afraid.
Michael sat on the bed and listened.
"I know this must all seem very strange to you, Michael," Mr. Maguire started. "That's to be expected. You'll get used to it soon enough and you'll begin to understand what this is all about."
"Your mother has left for home," he continued. "She'll be back for you on Sunday night and from now until then we will be spending a lot of time working together to create something that in the long run will make you a lot happier both at home and at school."
Michael didn't really understand. He felt happy already...well mostly, he did. He remembered how he was always pretty sad when his mother seemed unhappy and he knew that sometimes he was the cause of that. That made him sad and not proud of himself. He did try to improve on the things that got him into trouble but most of the time he just didn't think. And of course, when it came to work, it was always much more fun to just play. He didn't feel real happy when the people around him were angry at him. Maybe he did sort of understand what Mr. Maguire meant.
Mr. Maguire sat on the bed next to the boy, getting close enough to purposefully invade his space and positioning himself so that Michael had no alternative but to look him square in the eye.
"How old are you, Michael?" Maguire asked, already well aware of this detail.
"I'm nine," answered Michael. "I just had a birthday last month."
"And why do you think you are spending the weekend with me?" Maguire continued to question.
"Mrs. Everet arranged it with my mom...and with you," he answered avoiding as well he could what he knew was the real question.
Maguire pressed, "And why did Mrs. Everet and your mom arrange with me for you to be here?"
Michael hesitated then spoke bluntly, "So you can hit me for being bad."
"Do you really thing that that's the reason for your being here, Michael?" asked Mr. Maguire amused at the boy's spunk but holding back a smile.
Michael thought for a minute. "Well maybe because I'm not doing so well at school...and maybe home too and my mom and Mrs. Everet feel bad about it."
"What do you mean by that?" Maguire probed hoping to get the boy to really think about things.
"Well, I like to play a lot and sometimes I don't get things done that I'm supposed to. Playing is more fun. That makes Mrs. Everet mad at me. My mom too sometimes."
Part 6 continued next
Part 6 continued:
"Why do you think they get mad?" the man asked.
"I don't know," Michael avoided.
"Don't you?" Maguire pushed in a steady quiet voice.
There was a longer than usual silence then Michael blurted out, "I guess cause they want me to do better and I guess it's because they think I can do better than I do. And they don't know what to do about it."
"Do you know what to do about it?" Maguire asked.
Michael thought a moment, thinking he understood the question but not totally sure. Then suddenly the question made perfect sense.
"I guess I don't know what to do about it either," Michael began. "When I make my mom feel bad, I try to do things right but it doesn't work out and I keep doing things the same wrong things and making her unhappy again. If I knew what to do about it then I guess I would do things different."
"And that's why you're here with me this weekend," said Maguire. "I'm going to help you to start doing the right thing and stop doing the wrong thing over and over."
Michael was interested. "How can you do that?" he asked.
"Well, one way," explained Mr. Maguire is to make sure that you understand that when you make bad choices and do the wrong thing that there is a penalty to be paid."
"Do you know what a penalty is?" Maguire asked.
Michael thought and then shook his head, "It's like if you're not following the rules when you're riding your bike and you fall and hurt yourself because of it?"
"Yes, that's sort of it," said Maguire. "If you do something foolish or wrong, something you don't much like happens because of it. It's important that little boys....and grownups...know that when you do the wrong thing there is usually a penalty."
"You know what else?" Maguire continued putting his arm around the boy.
"What?" Michael asked feeling very comfortable with this man and beginning to understand why Bobby thought he was a very cool guy.
"When you don't like a penalty enough and you know that bad behavior will cause the penalty, it helps you to think twice before doing something wrong," he responded.
Maguire's voice turned sterner and more serious than it had been. "Michael, the problem we have to work on is getting you to understand that there is a penalty for you misbehaviors. It seems to me that you've done a lot of things that you know you shouldn't but because there has never been a penalty that really made you think, it hasn't helped you very much."
Michael had an uneasy feeling that he would not like where this was going.
"Son, I help little boys like you to think before they do things they know they shouldn't by making sure that the penalty for misbehaving is something they definitely don't want to happen," said Maguire seriously.
"You spank them," Michael offered, understanding too well where this was leading.
"Yes, I do," said Maguire. "I spank little boys to help them to remember to do the right thing and I spank them hard enough so that a spanking is something they would rather not get."
"I never got spanked before," said Michael in a way that almost sounded like a plea.
"And son, from what I understand, it's about time you did," countered Maguire not in a challenging way but with a tone that suggested that he had the solution that the boy needed.
"Between now and Sunday night, Michael, I am going to spank you several times..."
Michael heard the words like a jolt.
"...so by the end of this weekend you will be very familiar with what it means to be spanked. Hopefully you will also leave here on Sunday night with a real desire to avoid being spanked in the future and a better ability to thing before you misbehave," finished Maguire.
"I don't want to be spanked," quietly pleaded the boy.
"I am sure you don't, Michael. And it is my job to make sure that you work very hard to avoid more spankings after the ones you will get this weekend and to make sure you also understand that if you don't change the way you do things that more spankings are certain."
"There are going to be different reasons for your spankings this weekend, Michael," Mr. Maguire explained to a sad looking little boy whose eyes were filled with tears. "Some you will not be able to avoid. Others will only be the result of you not following my rules and working hard to avoid them."
"How many spankings am I going to get?" Michael asked with a real sense of concern in his voice.
"At least 6 spankings but perhaps more depending on what you do," said Maguire. "You will be spanked before bed tonight and on Saturday night. You will be spanked when you get up Saturday morning and you will be spanked after lunch Sunday and one last time before your mother comes to pick you up on Sunday night. These are the spanking you will receive as a penalty for all the misbehaviors that you have already done that caused you to have to spend the weekend with me in the first place."
Michael had been counting in his head as Mr. Maguire set the boy's spanking schedule.
"That's only 5," Michael blurted out then wondering why he hadn't just kept his mouth shut. Another example he though of his doing something without thinking first. And he was sure there would definitely be a penalty for that.
"Yes, that is only 5," Mr. Maguire responded unable to hold back the faintest smile, "And I said there will be at least 8. I didn't make a mistake, Michael but the 6th spanking will actually be your first spanking and that one is a special one."
"What do you mean?" Michael asked.
"Well, Michael," Mr. Maguire explained, "you've never been spanked before, right?"
"Sometimes new things can be frightening and certainly given the circumstances being spanked for the first time by someone you've just met and in a strange place could be particularly frightening. And that is not what I want."
Michael listened intently as this new authority figure in his life continued to explain.
"A spanking is a penalty for doing something wrong, son, and it certainly isn't supposed to be very pleasant. A spanking is meant to hurt and to hurt enough to make you really wish you had made some better decisions. It's also meant to help you make better choices in the future."
Maguire squeezed the boy's shoulder, "But although it hurts, I don't want you to be frightened when you are getting spanked. You need to understand that I'm really trying to help you. I spank the boys who come to see me because I care about them and I truly want them to do better."Michael managed a little smile.
"So, Michael," Maguire added, "the first spanking I'll give you will be a spanking that isn't exactly like the kind of spanking you'll get for punishment. It's more a way for me to show you what you can expect and what a spanking is like. If you have questions, I'll answer them. It's a way for me to help you not to be afraid so that you can think more about how you want to avoid getting spanked in the future and how doing the right thing is the way to do it."
Michael thought he understood and was surprised at how he didn't seem afraid of Mr. Maguire at all. Oh he was worried about these spankings alright, but somehow the man who was going to administer them did seem "very cool" just like Bobby had said.
Maguire got up and moved around the room making sure that the boy had completed the task of putting away the items he had brought as he had been instructed. He checked the closet, the bathroom, the small chest.
Opening one of the drawers, Mr. Maguire pulled out a pair of boxer shorts which he held up in front of Michael.
"What are these?" he asked the boy.
"My underpants," Michael responded wondering how Mr. Maguire couldn't have known what they were.
"Is that what you wear?" Maguire asked.
"Uh-huh," Michael responded.
"Yes, Mr. Maguire," the man corrected.
"Yes, Mr. Maguire," Michael answered again.
"Won't do," Maguire said half to the boy but mostly to himself as he scooped the several pair of boxers from the drawer.
"Just stay seated, son," the man said, "I'll be right back."
Quickly Maguire was gone and Michael was left to reconsider the words that had been spoken to him. He was definitely going to be spanked this weekend and quite a bit too. He felt sort of glad that there was going to be that first spanking that Mr. Maguire talked about. It was strange, he still didn't want to be spanked but somehow he did feel better knowing that everything was going to be explained to him and it wasn't just going to happen without him really understanding what to expect. Mr. Maguire was right...he still felt nervous about the spanking hurting but just his talk with the man had made him less afraid in a way.
The door reopened and Maguire reentered ripping at the plastic wrap that encased several pairs of white jockey brief. "This is what boys wear," Maguire announced, "and this is what you'll be wearing this weekend."
Maguire put all but one pair of the underpants neatly into the drawer, handing the remaining one to Michael.
"Okay, Michael," he said, "it's about time we get started. I am going to leave you for a bit and while I am gone, I want you to get out of the clothes you are wearing and put them in your bag, go to the bathroom, then take a shower. When you're done, dry off well and put on the pair of underpants I just gave you and get your rubber reef sandals on. Then sit on the edge of the bed and wait for me. Your weekend is about to begin."
Michael's stomach did a flip on hearing that last sentence. And in a second Mr. Maguire was out the door and he was alone.
Part 7 next
Part 7: How a Boy Is Spanked
Michael stood in front of one of the wall mirrors dressed only in his new white jockey underpants and "flip-flops" as Mr. Maguire had directed. The underpants felt funny to him, snug but comfortable. He looked at himself in the mirror.
"I'm fat," he thought to himself. This, of course, was certainly not the case at all, just the perception of a boy who really didn't have much self-confidence when it came right down to it. He was one of those little boys who kept a little bit of that baby fat that other boys lose when they start to grow in height. Some of his classmates were so thin that by comparison Michael felt fat, when in reality he was simply a little boy with a pleasant amount of substance to him. You really wouldn't even call him chubby, cause he certainly wasn't.
He kept looking at himself in the mirror focusing on how the thin cotton material of his new underpants outlined the plump cheeks of his bottom. He really hadn't given much thought to his bottom before but given the circumstances and what was to be the focal point of his weekend, it was not surprising that his focus, as he looked in the mirror, would be where it was.
Mr. Maguire knew that all boys needed a good spanking on occasion. He had always been convinced of the effectiveness of the practice and he especially believed that spanking was a form of punishment that nicely suited the nature of little boys. There were some little boys, however, whom Mr. Maguire found particularly suited for spanking...and Michael seemed to fit the bill as one of them. Basically a good boy with some misbehaviors and a tendency toward not thinking before acting, this could certainly be remedied with a consistent regimen of encouragement and praise when he did right and a soundly warmed bottom when he didn't. And as was typical of these special boys, Michael had just the kind of bottom made for spanking.
Michael stared at his bottom in the mirror. The stark white of the underpants drew the eye there on the otherwise naked boy. The material clung and covered his still hairless body, protecting his modesty but also detailing the full, fleshiness of his bum. Both his personality and his bottom made him idea for spanking.
Through the door, Michael heard footsteps at the end of the corridor. Quickly he sat himself on the edge of his bed as he had been directed and was just in place as the door to the bedroom opened.
Mr. Maguire entered the room. He had changed his clothes and was now dressed more casually in loose fitting garments that would allow freedom of movement and comfort during this session with Michael.
"Stand up, Michael," Maguire instructed the boy. Michael obeyed. "Turn around and let me get a look at you."
"Excellent," said Maguire evaluating the readiness of the boy. "I think we can begin."
Michael's stomach did a flip and he looked at the floor.
"Well, son," began Mr. Maguire, "it's time that you learned what a spanking is like and I am going to take you though it step by step so you understand what is going to be happening.
Michael looked up into the man's face.
"For the rest of the weekend," said Maguire, this is your "uniform". "You'll stay in just your underpants and sandals. Understood?"
The boy nodded.
"Do you remember why I am going to spank you?" asked Maguire.
"Because things you don't like can happen when you're bad," answered Michael.
"Because things you don't like can happen when you do things you shouldn't do," Maguire corrected tousling the boy's light brown hair.
"To give you a spanking, I am going to take down your underpants and then put you over my lap so that you are in a position that let's me hold you in place while I slap your bottom."
Michael listened intently not sure what concerned him more being denuded or being hit on the bottom.
"If you fight me when I am getting you ready for your spanking, Michael, it will just make things much more difficult and much worse for you. Spankings are always longer and harder for little boys who don't cooperate. Do you understand?" asked Maguire.
"Yeah...I mean yes, sir," answered Michael.
"Let's try this first part," said Maguire pulling the tall, straight back wooden chair next to bed out to the center of the room.
Maguire took Michael by the hand and both approached the chair where the man sat and stood the boy in front of him. They were facing each other with heads at almost equal height with the boy standing in the V which was created by Mr. Maguire's open legs.
"Usually we will talk a bit before you are spanked," Maguire told the boy, "but once we begin this is how you will be standing to start. Then I will take down your underpants like this."
Maguire reached out with both hands pulling the waistband of boy's underpants slightly out from his body at the hips. He tucked his thumbs inside on both sides and grabbed a bit of cotton material with each hand. Very slowly, he began to pull downward.
Michael held his breath standing very still.
The material slid down in front and back and met slight resistance. With a firm tug, the material pulled over both his buttocks and his genitals, releasing and sliding down the boy's legs to the floor. The boy was naked.
Michael blushed, his hands involuntarily moving forward to cover his nakeness.
"None of that, silly boy," Maguire said with a smile. "Don't you think I've seen many little boys naked before? You needn't be embarrassed. It is something you will have to get used to."
Michael's hand moved back to his sides as Maguire put his hands on the boy's hips and gently turned him around. The boy's bottom slowly came into view. His firm little cheeks were full and pale white. The skin was smooth and flawless. What a shame to have to assault these cheeks in punishment but Maguire knew that it was a necessity.
Continuing part 7 next
Part 7 continued
Maguire maneuvered the boy to the side and closed his legs together.
"I like to put a boy over my lap this way," Maguire told Michael as he lifted the boy over his lap so that the boy's bottom was positioned and accessible while his feet were lifted off the floor and his shoulder's lowered putting Michael off balance.
It was then that Michael noticed himself in the mirrors. He could see everything from different angles. It was obvious that the mirrors in the room had been so placed as to reflect each other and to offer both the man and the boy multiple views of the spanking as it progressed.
There he was, naked and over Mr. Maguire's lap. He could see his bottom raised and ready to be spanked. In another mirror he could even see his little penis and scrotum hanging between the opened legs of the man who would spank him. And there was also opportunity to see his own face.
Michael wondered just how much attention he would give to any of these images once his bottom was hurting and that became the center of his focus.
"If you're a brave little boy and don't fight me and take your punishment as you should," Maguire told the boy, this is the way you will stay over my knee.
Michael wasn't sure if he would be able to be very brave. "I guess I'll find out," he thought.
"If you are not so brave and start to wiggle and try to move away to avoid your spanking, then I will move you like this," Maguire warned.
Maguire took the boy and easily moved him so that he was standing between his legs facing to the man's left. He pushed the boy down over his left leg and pulled his right leg in trapping both boy's legs between his own in a tight grip. He reached down and grabbed Michael's right arm and pulled it up across his back leaning into it with his own weight.
It was immediately obvious to Michael that he couldn't move. His bare bottom was still positioned so that Mr. Maguire could easily slap it and there would be no way he could avoid the slaps no matter how he might try.
"I much prefer it when my boys cooperate with their discipline," Maguire spoke as he undid his grasp and lifted Michael off his lap standing the boy in front of him and looking directly into his eyes.
"Do you understand that this is for your own good, Michael?" Maguire asked.
"Yes, Mr. Maguire," Michael answered, "I think I do." And the strangest part of all was that Michael somehow felt that he really did mean it even though it felt odd and he didn't actually understand why.
"Mr. Maguire?" the boys asked softly.
"Yes, son," the man responded.
"I'll try to cooperate the way you want." Michel said.
"Okay Michael," Maguire announced, "Let's find out how a spanking feels."
"Yes, sir," the boy said his voice quivering with both trepidation and a strange desire to finally see what this was all about.
"Remember, Michael, this is not a severe punishment spanking just something to one to introduce you to what a spanking is like and to let you begin to understand what punishment feels like. The other spankings you will receive between now and Sunday night will be longer and will hurt more. Do you understand?" asked Maguire and he guided the boy back over his lap in the position originally introduced that offered Michael the opportunity to both cooperate and teach himself to accept his punishment as he should.
"Yes, sir," Michael answered back in position his bottom posed and ready.
"This time, I'm just going to spank you with my hand," said Maguire, "but my hand is not the only thing used to spank a boy's naughty bottom."
Maguire studied the bared bottom presented to him, adjusting the boy slightly on his lap so that the fleshy cheeks of the boy's buttocks were tensed but the skin not drawn too tightly. The two globes presented an appealing target that Maguire was sure would dance and grow bright pink with each successive slap.
"Are you ready?" Maguire asked.
Both man and boy wondered truly what the answer to that question was and what the reaction would be with the first smack of palm to cheek. The time had come to find out, for Michael to finally know what millions of boys before him had known.
Maguire raised his hand up, his palm open, his fingers closed. And with deliberate force brought his hand squarely in contact with Michael's bare bottom.
"Owww," a sound eliminate involuntarily from the boy's mouth as he squirmed just a bit and his hand half moved backwards to cover his bottom before he consciously allowed it to drop to the floor where it found Mr. Maguire's leg and held tight.
A second smack descended hard and Michael reacted more strongly, this time clutching at Maguires leg while and clenched his buttock cheeks forcefully.
Maguire continued to slap the boy's bare bottom making sure that each hard smack did it works in assuring that every part of the two fleshy globes felt the sting.
Michael tried hard to be brave. He wanted to stay in place and accept his punishment as Mr. Maguire wanted him to do. The verbal protestations had quickly turned into real tears that filled the boy's eyes and dripped from them as Maguire continued to spank, smacking the boy's bum hard and waiting just long enough for the sting to be deeply felt before smacking the bottom again. Michael clutched and sobbed and squirmed wanted to get away but also wanting to stay in place and accept his punishment. Would this never end? Michael lost count of the smacks as Maguire continued to spank. Ethan Maguire was never one for counting slaps but rather using his experience to judge when a boy was showing contrition and when the spanking as a event had been effective.
The skin of Michael's bottom had quickly changed from a pale white to a shiny, rosy pink. Then as quickly as the spanking had started, it was done.
Michael lay over Mr. Maguire's lap crying sincerely and suddently realizing that the sharp pains had stopped and that all that remained was an uncomfortable ache and the feeling of heat. There was also that need to cry. It felt good actually, getting it out. He felt better. He certainly didn't like being spanked but someone now that it was over, he did feel better.
Maguire let Michael cry over his lap for a few minutes before lifting the boy up and sitting him on his lap. Michael's head fell against Maguire's shoulder and the crying slowed and composure somewhat returned. Maguire put his arm around the boy who involuntarily responded by hugging Maguire tightly.
"Well, Michael, that was your very first spanking," said Maguire quietly. "I know it wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't a horrible thing either."
Michael thought about that and knew Maguire was right. The pain wasn't even the worst of it, he thought. It was more the shock of the event and its newness. Then Michael remembered what Maguire had told him earlier: "Remember, Michael, this is not a severe punishment spanking just something to introduce you to what a spanking is like and to let you begin to understand what punishment feels like. The other spankings you will receive between now and Sunday night will be longer and will hurt more. Do you understand?"
Michael sat quietly on Mr. Maguire lap, content to be there. Despite the ache he still felt, he also felt a comfort.
Michael knew that he would have more to deal with as the weekend continued. But for now he had managed to get through this new thing and he felt good about that.
07-24-2009, 01:02 AM
this is awesome SD, will there be more of the series.
it is excellent, and a great story line, so not too be to forward but...
"please sir, may i have anouther"
07-24-2009, 03:03 AM
It is really a shame that you have stopped writing. You're frightfully good at it.
Great story, thanks for sharing!
it is excellent, and a great story line, so not too be to forward but...
Highly unlikely CpWill. I wrote this several years ago along with a few others ---some more serious, some just pure fetishist tickling---and to be honest, I haven't felt like writing anything in a very long time. I only did the ones I did to try my hand at it and at the time, it seemed like the thing to try. :) It was actually originally written for another author who was also then posting stories on MMSA with whom I was friends in response to some personal stories he had written and shared with me.
I'm really not a writer, although there were a couple of pieces of which I was proud.
This particular story does certainly seem to need to go on...however, I would invite anyone who wanted to make the effort to take the situation, the characters, and the set up presented in this piece of the "weekend" and run with it...
07-30-2009, 08:01 PM
I red that story long time ago on mmsa and always have been waiting for the next part... hope that you will write the part II one day :-)
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