Terry Kept Waiting For a Week

by Aardvark51 <Verdigris51@hotmail.com>

This is one of those stories you hear from your friend's friend's friend - and you can never be sure whether such things happen in real life - though they'd surely be interesting to see or assist with if they did. So I tell the story as fiction.

The friend of a friend of a friend, whom we shall call Dave, was a travelling salesman, picking up accommodation around the country as he needed it. Dave was in his forties, single; he'd been spanked a good deal as a kid and retained a view that a good spanking with maximum embarrassment was the best way for boys in mid-adolescence. It kept him from going off the rails, so why not others?

On this occasion, he landed up during the summer for a whole week in a small town, in an area he had not travelled before, quite out of the way. There wasn't much accommodation, but eventually he found a place on its own just outside town which just took the occasional lodger, offering a bedroom but the share of everything else. Dave really preferred a room with a bathroom and a lodging house with a separate lounge, but he had no choice this time.

At evening meal on his first day he met the assembled family, Mr and Mrs Jones and their son Terry, who looked fourteen, but was actually 16. Terry was black haired, short, brown-eyes, with smooth sun-tanned skin. Mrs Jones was herself involved in travelling for business and due off the next day, so Mr Jones tended to run the house.

Over the meal, it quickly became apparent that Terry was in some kind of serious trouble with his parents. The family atmosphere was tense and Terry was sent straight to his room after the meal. Over coffee, Mr and Mrs Jones, who were clearly angry and uncertain, confided in Dave that Terry had been caught stealing female underwear from a neighbour's house, where he was meant to be baby-sitting. This was not the first time he had stolen from them or friends, though the lingerie element was new.

The debate between the parents related to the use of physical punishment. Mrs Jones said she felt Mr Jones had been too soft. When Terry was young, until he was 11, she had punished him by talking his trousers and underpants down and smacking his bottom. Then, recognizing his age, she had handed him over to Mr Jones who had, just occasionally, slippered him in his bedroom, with his clothes on. Mrs Jones took the view that Mr Jones should have punished more often, been more severe and more humiliating. Mr and Mrs Jones had both been punished on the bare by their parents until they were 18, but Mr Jones had taken the view with Terry that times had changed and that a more liberal and reasonable response would be effective.

The two parents reached deadlock and asked Dave for his view. Dave's response was entirely predictable; he sided strongly with Mrs Jones - and Mr Jones caved in, but said he would find it difficult to know how to go about things, particularly as his wife would be away until Friday night. This led to the creation of a plan in which Dave was a key figure.

Their plan complete, the table cleared, Terry was summoned back down. He made quite an appealing and mischievous figure, Dave thought, dressed in black cord long trousers, black trainers, white socks and a red polo shirt, with thin gold bracelet and necklet. He settled himself at a dining chair.

"Your dad and I have been talking," Mrs Jones said, "and this gentleman has been helping us too. We've decided to offer you a choice for your punishment. Either we hand you over to the law and tell them everything...."

"Oh no! Please no!" Terry interrupted passionately.

"... Or, you have a punishment week of a very old-fashioned kind...."

"What does that mean?"

"You're kept in the house until the end of Sunday, you get spankings on the bare bottom and other things which will embarrass you, and you have to do whatever daddy and Dave tell you, however embarrassed you are."

"Oh," Terry said, looking very shocked. "Bare?"

"Oh yes," Mrs Jones said. "At times, possibly even naked.."

"No clothes...?" The words were sinking in.

"Possibly. Sometimes."

"Until Sunday night?"

"That's right."


"So what's it to be?"

"I don't have any real choice. I'll have to take your punishment."

"Terry," Mr Jones said, "We've tried everything else, we've got to stop you now or you'll end up in real trouble."

Terry hung his head. "Yes Dad, I know."

"So we begin now," Mrs Jones said. "Go upstairs, take everything off and put on your white vest and briefs, clean white socks and your white trainers."

"Nothing else?"

"Nothing else. Then come back down."

They had a second coffee each and Terry soon reappeared, looking somehow younger still in his bright, clean cotton underwear. Dave noted his very well-rounded buttocks and Terry's well-filled crotch. He might look young, but he was clearly well-developed.

Mrs Jones led Terry to the kitchen and put him in a very frilly pink apron, ordering him to wash and dry all the crockery, cutlery and pans from dinner. After he had finished, she inspected his work and, finding two or three items not perfectly clean, called Mr Jones and Dave into the kitchen, bent him over the kitchen table, and administered six hard thwacks with a flat wooden spoon to the seat of his underpants. When he stood, he seemed more embarrassed than in pain, though Dave reported that he was rubbing his bottom vigorously.

Terry then had to spend the rest of the evening in the living room with the family, in his vest and underpants, before being sent up to bed earlier than usual, with an instruction to be back down at breakfast dressed the same, at eight.

Terry was late for breakfast. Mr Jones pulled him out of bed in his pajamas and brought him down to the kitchen. He was bent over the kitchen table once more, but this time his pajama bottom was dropped and his pajama top folded back to reveal his muscular little bottom, which was once more smacked six times, this time by Mr Jones, with the wooden spoon. Terry turned away and rapidly hauled up his pajamas so they only had a back view, scampering upstairs to put on his white underwear, socks and shoes - then rushing back down, looking very embarrassed, to eat breakfast.

After breakfast, Mrs Jones gave Terry instructions to spring clean the kitchen during the day. Dave went off to work and Mr Jones took over.

Dave returned at 5 on the Tuesday, to find a very mucky Terry on his knees in the kitchen, completing the washing of the floor.

"Right," Mr Jones said, "Now Dave is here, take yourself upto the bathroom, Terry."

They followed Terry upto the bathroom, where Mr Jones had already run a bath.

"OK, strip off and in you get."

Terry looked at his father and Dave, expecting them to leave.

"We're not leaving, if that's what you think," Mr Jones said. "You're getting a supervised bath as part of your punishment. Come on, strip."

Terry turned his back on them, bent and undid his shoes, then removed his socks. He pulled off his vest, dropped his pants and quickly climbed into the bath.

"Fine," Mr Jones said, "Soap yourself thoroughly and rinse off."

Terry did this.

"Now Dave will wash your hair," Mr Jones said.

So Dave washed Terry's hair.

"Out you climb."

Terry somehow contrived to climb out backwards. Mr Jones picked up a bath towel and wrapped it round him. "Dry yourself thoroughly," Mr Jones said.

Again, Terry managed to preserve some modesty. "Give me the towel - I want to see if you're dry all over."

This time, Terry was unable to conceal his circumcised dick and fine little bush of black hair. He looked away in embarrassment.

"Good, come to your bedroom."

All three went to Terry's bedroom,, where Mr Jones had Terry lie on his back, his hands clasped behind his head. "Now, I'm going to trim this pubic hair of yours," Mr Jones said, producing some short scissors.

"Dad!" Terry gasped.

"You'd rather be reported to the law?"

Terry knew when he was beat. But the process of trimming involved moving the position of Terry's penis from time to time, which Mr Jones told Terry to do each time, and soon he was very hard, a good five and a half inches. He was really blushing now. His father cut his hair virtually to a stubble.

"Put on some clean white underwear and socks, no shoes, and come down to dinner," Mr Jones ordered.

On the Wednesday evening, Dave and Mr Jones had created an embarrassing surprise. Dave had phoned up a friend of his, who he knew was into spanking, so Larry had motored over and visited after dinner. Terry was employed in making coffee and serving it, then there was a discussion in front of him about ways to punish boys:

"I think it's good to have a boy Terry's age copmpletely naked for a day or two," Larry said.

"I think that's a bit too much," Dave replied. "Perhaps a day and only bare-arse. They should be able to keep their vest on."

"What's the best thing to punish with?" Mr Jones asked.

"Hand spanking's quite good," Larry said.

"I favour a nice, broad leather belt," Dave said. "That's what I used to get."

"A belt can bruise," Larry said. "Depends on his skin really."

"Want a look?" Mr Jones said.

"Good idea," Larry agreed.

"Take off your pants, Terry, and go over to Larry."

Terry did as he was told. His vest was quite long that day and only the tip of his penis dangled below it. He stood in front of Larry who immediately lifted his vest. "Who's been giving him a haircut?" he asked.

"I have," Mr Jones said.

"You ought to try a shave," Larry said. "That would really make him feel small. Turn round and bend forward, Terry."

Terry did this and Larry folded back his vest and stroked his buttocks. "They're quite soft," he said. "I'd only give him the belt right at the end."

On Thursday when he came home, Dave found Terry in the living room, only wearing a short vest, which left nothing to the imagination, along with his socks and shoes. At bedtime, Terry was taken to the kitchen, given a razor and shaving foam and shown how to shave off his pubic hair. Then Mr Smith had him kneel on the table and shaved between his buttocks. By the end, naked except for his socks, Terry had no body hair. Even his armpits and legs were shaved.

On the Friday, Mrs Jones came back, shortly after Dave, to find her son naked apart from his socks and shoes. After dinner, they took it in turns, all three of them, to put him over their knees and spank him until he was howling for mercy.

He was only allowed a vest all Saturday. On Saturday evening, he was bent over the kitchen table, all his clothes removed, and received three strokes with a belt from each of them.

He had to spend all Sunday naked and was only allowed his clothes on Monday morning.


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