"Richard!" James had called his boy now two times with no response and the door to the bedroom was also locked. "Richard! If you don't come out this instant, you will be a very sorry little boy indeed!"
Richard was in his room, his mind agape at the size of his new room, it was bigger than the house he was dossing in and it even had a television and video and music system. Mr. X, his daddy now, said it used to be the guest bedroom but would now be his. He had, out of habit, locked the bedroom door. He was just pulling on his sock when he snapped out of his daydream at hearing 'very sorry boy indeed'. He knew what being a 'very sorry little boy indeed' meant in his new household; a very sore little bottom indeed.
"Sorry daddy" he shouted out as he rushed to the door. As soon as he unlocked the door, the door flew open and there was Daddy, standing erect and looking down sternly at his boy. His was scruffy, wearing his little grey schoolboy shorts, shirt hanging out on one side of his shorts, one ankle sock on, the other dangling from his foot. As quick as a flash, Richard's daddy had hold of his left arm and smacked the boy sharply and quickly six times on the seat of his shorts. Richard yelped and stood on tiptoe as his daddy's massive right hand made contact with his little bottom. The hand completely covered his bottom and though he was wearing shorts it stung terribly.
"I'll deal with this later little man!" said daddy. "When I call you Richard, you are to answer immediately, do you understand?"
"Yes daddy, cor, that really smarts daddy .... sniff" Richard pouted. "Of course it smarts! There'd be no point in my smacking your bottom if it didn't would there?" He smiled at his boy. Richard dutifully rubbed his lower bottom and smiled at his daddy too.
"Oh, and don't you ever lock a door in this house again, you're only a little boy now and little boys do not hide things from their daddy's, understand?"
"Yes daddy," he pouted again, "even on the loo daddy?" he asked. "Especially on the loo little man!"
"Anyway, that's enough whining from you little boy. You and I are going out now, specifically to buy some clothes for you. I will not have anyone thinking that my boy doesn't have a stitch to wear, and I warning you now young man. I will chose your clothes for you. If I here a single whine or see your little bottom lip wobble into the slightest of pouts I will punish you there and then, and I don't care who sees, understand?"
"Yes daddy" replied Richard in a long sigh, almost pouting but not quite. He was quite certain that his new daddy wouldn't think twice about spanking him a changing room or in the middle of a shop itself, and that scared him; just a little bit, but it scared him nonetheless.
So off they went, little Richard dressed in the clothes he had on the day before; T-shirt, grey school shorts, ankle socks and sandals. His daddy walked down the road from the car park at the massive shopping mall holding Richard by the hand like a good little boy. Richard on the other hand, didn't like this, one thing was to have a daddy, another was to be dragged around the streets being held by the hand like a five-year-old and he didn't like it at all. He kept struggling and pulling his daddy to shop windows where they had some really neat stuff; not boring clothes.
"Richard! If you pull on my hand one more time I will smack the back of your legs right now!" Richard was mortified. His daddy bellowed out this reprimand in front of a group of street wise youths who all promptly burst into tears of laughter while pointing and taunting Richard. Daddy had never seen his boy's face such a shade of red, but noticing his boys embarrassment promptly smacked his boy sharply. Once on the back of each leg; half on the hem of his shorts and half on bare leg. He left a very clear, perfect imprint of his bottom two fingers showing beneath the hem of his boys shorts. Richard yelped as usual but didn't give the big boys the satisfaction of crying; he just bent his head lower studying the imperfections of his little boy sandals and not looking even remotely in the direction of the big boys. He wanted the whole world to open up and swallow him whole.
After what seemed an interminable amount of time being led by his father around the high street, his daddy came to an old clothes shop with an old fashioned wattle and daub exterior and in big gold letters "Bespoke School Outfitters" over the door. There was also a smaller sign proclaiming that all designs and outfits catered for by the more discerning among the country elite.
"Ah, Mr. Charles how wonderful to see you through my doors again, it's been quite a while if I may be so bold as to say." The big, portly but jovial looking proprietor of this clothing emporium shook hands warmly with Richard's new daddy as his big, black, pig eyes looked down at the small boy in school shorts attached to Mr. X's big hand.
"And who do we have here then?" he asked looking down at Richard. "I must say, he looks a picture."
"A picture of a very naughty little scamp I'm afraid. I've never looked after a naughtier boy John." Richard again turned the colour of a very ripe tomato. To be called a naughty little scamp in front of an adult was almost too much, he was fourteen after all and soon would be fifteen. He liked being a little boy again but he didn't want the whole world to know; he pouted.
"Well I must say this 'naughty little boy' looks like an absolute angel," gushed the proprietor, "What miracle would you like me to perform on the boy?" "Ah, a very good question. As you may know, I believe that," he looked sternly at Richard, "little boys, especially naughty little boys like this one, should be kept looking like little boys. I demand smart dress and neatness at all times. I believe that a smartly dressed little boy permanently kept in short trousers, keeps him out of mischief, you see, when a boy is in little short trousers he is noticed by everyone thus keeping him out of trouble as it were, don't you agree John?"
"Absolutely sir. I think the advent of long trousers and the abolition of decent punishment in schools, and in the home, are largely to blame for the state of modern society," replied the portly gentleman.
"I most wholeheartedly agree," responded Richard daddy "I think a boy in shorts will behave by instinct. You must agree that the sight of modern youth in their baggy jeans and baggy sweatshirts with hoods over their baseball caps is a disgraceful sight, they dress that way only to intimidate law-abiding citizens, hiding their faces indeed. Mind you, it's not really their fault, bless them, it's the parents I blame and the so-called child psychologists. A naughty boy is a naughty boy and the only way to turn them in to good boys is through frequent applications of the hand and hairbrush to their naughty bottoms."
"Here here," replied the portly owner of this ancient shop.
Richard didn't know where to put his face, he was just glad that there was nobody else in the shop. He had been living on his own and rough for a long time and couldn't believe that there were people like this. Images of William Brown of Just William fame came to his mind, he could now see himself in the role of a naughty little mischievous schoolboy. Well at least he didn't go to school he thought. Little did the boy know what was waiting for him in the future.
"Anyway my good man," said Richards daddy, "I would love to discuss the social ills of this poor country but alas I have a young man here that is in sore need of clothes and attention. What can you do for me?"
"Ahhh, well actually, it all depends on what you would wish. As you know I am a purveyor of fine 'boyish' clothing as it were. As long as you have a design in mind I am sure that I can accommodate you my good man."
"Good, good," he looked at his boy "I can tell you now that all trousers for this boy will be short, the shorter the better. Here is list of the essential clothing I need for my lad here" He handed over a sheet of paper.
"Hmmm. SCHOOL: 6 pairs of short grey school shorts, 6 pairs of mid thigh school shorts, 6 pairs of mid thigh flannel school shorts. Six grey school shirts, long sleeved and six short sleeved. Six pairs of long grey school socks, six pair ankle length and lastly 2 plain grey short peaked school type caps. Ah, and two red, blue and maroon school ties with matching stockings and ankle socks. I must say sir, you choice in clothing is impeccable!"
"Daddy! That ain't fair like! You's going to dress me like a little, little boy, I don't want ankle socks or short shorts and stuff, I'm a big boy now and anyway I already got school shorts and stuff, cant I have big baggy knee length shorts" Richard stamped his foot, "NO FAIR!"
Daddy shook his head sadly; "Do you see what I have to put up with?"
"I must say sir, I am quite shocked at the boys rudeness, shocked! Shocked! Tut tut tut" replied the portly man shaking his head sadly.
Holding on to his boys ear lobe, he asked "I don't suppose you have a empty room I could use for a while?"
"Ah, I think I know what you mean my good fellow." He pointed to a door at the back of the shop, "There is a double door there" he raised an eyebrow, "quite soundproofed actually." He held up a hand to halt his friend, with boy ear in tow, and went behind his counter. He produced an enormous wooden clothes brush from behind the counter. It had an oval head, eight inches long and five wide at its widest. "I really don't like to but in, my good chap, but if I may be so bold, I think you might like to make some use of this poor implement." He held up the clothes chap.
"My darling man, you are a god send and I think it will do most admirably!"
Richard looked at what the man was bandying around and gasped loudly at the sight of the brush. He had never seen a brush so big, its paddle would easily cover both his little bottom cheeks at the same time and he had no doubt that that was where it was going to be applied. His daddy walked over to the proprietor; ear in hand and took the brush. Richard struggled as a tear streaked down his face knowing that his little boyish bottom was going to be very sore indeed in a very short amount of time.
"Daddy, daddy, daddy, I .... I'm sorry .... honist! Sniff, sob, blubber.
"Not as sorry as you are going to be young man. You will not ever behave like that in public again because next time I promise you I will punish you on the spot wherever we are."
"John!" James called out as he sat down in a straight-backed chair, draping Richard over his knee positioning his bottom at the perfect angle for a thorough brushing. The portly John came into the room. "What can I do for you Mr. Charles?" "I would like you to rustle up an outfit for this extremely rude little boy. Something that will make him look like a very small boy and which I can use as a punishment in itself."
John brought his hand up to his chin and thought for a while, he suddenly smiled. "I think I have just the thing. Do you wish me to wait until you are over or shall I just bring it here directly, I presume you wish that little devil over your lap to wear it straight away?"
"I do indeed and don't worry about waiting, just come in, I'll be quite a while with this little scamp"
So saying Mr. Charles immediately began spanking his boy with the big brush, raining down a furious flurry of hard, fast blows to Richards lower bottom. He was still wearing his school shorts.
WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK.
15 swats landed in less than six seconds. Richards mouth went into perfect circle, he wanted to shout out but all the air had left his lungs. He had never been smacked so hard from the outset of a spanking and his mind was in overload. He hiccupped and suddenly let out a below of pain as his lungs filled with air. Before he knew what was happening, Richard felt his daddys hand at the waist line of his little school shorts and swiftly yanked them down his legs, then ankles then off completely; he wasn't wearing any briefs.
WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK.
Another fifteen landed all on the lower left buttock
DADDDDDDDDDYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY .... WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK.
Another fifteen landed on the lower right buttock.
Richard was now just a wall of sound.
Over and over again the brush landed on the boys bottom. James noted how the spank would initially leave a white oval shape on the boy's small bottom, which would then turn bright red, causing the little lad on his knee to kick and howl and wail. It was as if the child were swimming. Richards' bottom turned from white to pink to red to crimson red to cherry red and finally was turning purple.
Richard now lay still over his daddy's knee as he continued to be punished soundly. The only sound that of a brush smacking naughty bare little boy bottom flesh and the wails of despair coming from the other end. John walked in to this site and nodded approvingly as he watched his friend's technique. In his arms he was carrying a box.
Will WHACK you WHACK ever WHACK throw a tantrum WHACK WHACK WHACK again WHACK WHACK, scolded Mr. Charles.
NOOOOOooooooooooooo DADDYYYYYYYYYYYYYY, I love you dadddyyyyyyyyy, wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Mr. Charles rained another ten sharp smacks to his boys bottom, this time with his hand, all the spanks landed on the boys sit down spot and his hand covered both his cheeks at the same time. Again, Richard wailed, snot and tears streaming down his face.
There! It was over, James picked up the rag doll figure of his boy and stood him up. He gave him a quick, affectionate hug then took him to the corner of the room and deposited him there, placing the boys hands on his head. He wiped his brow and gave a sigh of relief that his duty had been performed and was now over.
John walked over to a table in the middle of the room and placed the box on top.
"My dear Mr. Charles, this is what I have chosen, I hope that this is what you had in mind".
James opened the box and peered inside, what he saw almost took his breath away in its very boyish cuteness. He looked from the box to his new boy then back to the box again and smiled.
"Richard! Come here this instant" Richard didn't need telling twice, he veritably ran over to the table and stood quietly, still sobbing and sniffling and looking at his feet.
"Good boy, you see how a smacking makes you a good boy?" He was impressed and looking at his friend saw that John was also impressed at the change in the boys demeanour.
"You will this instant take off all your clothes and put these on."
Richard hadnt looked into the box, he wasn't allowed. He took off his little grey school shorts, socks, sandals and in short all of his clothes until he was completely naked. He blushed terribly but didn't want to risk another sound spanking. "You will put these on" James said reaching into the box and pulling out a long sleeved shirt. The shirt was made of silk with frilly cuffs and stiff old-fashioned collar. Richard gasped at the sight of the shirt but nonetheless put the shirt on.
Next James pulled out a black velvet jacket, a very short jacket which reached only to his waist, it was positively tiny and little Richard sobbed as he put the jacket on.
Again James reached into the box and pulled out a pair of knee length, white, ankle socks. He picked up his boy and sat him on the table and commenced to dress his boy in the socks.
To Richards amazement and consternation James now pulled out a pair of tiny shorts made of the same material as the jacket; black velvet. They couldn't have had an inside leg of more than an inch. He dressed his boy in the shorts and then took out cute pair of black patent leather pumps and put them on his boy too.
"Oh John, you have done your establishment proud! Look at my little boy, he looks a picture! If the shorts were longer he would look like little Lord Fauntleroy! I couldn't have chosen a more little boyish set of clothes even if I sat down to think about it! I salute you sir!"
John looked at the boy, he was a picture all he need were curly bangles of flowing blonde locks. His eyes suddenly lit up and he went racing out of the storeroom. James stood there with Richard crying at having to wear the sissiest clothing any boy has worn in the last fifty years. He was really crying like a little five-year-old, his mouth was a wet rectangle and long threads of stringy spit dangled from his lips all the way to the floor as he had his hands in his mouth; wailing still.
John came back and Richard, at the sight of the hat in the portly mans hand, gave a fresh wail of despair. In Johns hand was a straw hat, round top and sides point upward with a big glue ribbon tied round the side.
"Shant wear it" screamed the little "shant shant shant .... wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh"
"Oh dear" said John.
Richard did not have long to wait, Mr. Charles took the hat out of his friends hand and plonked it on his boys head, he then turned the boy around and standing up bent the boy over by the waist and commeced smacking his boy soundly on the back of the legs. Not the top of his legs but the very middle of the back of each thigh. Now everybody could see that this little boy had been smacked and smacked soundly. Richard again howled like a baby as his legs kicked furiously at the onslaught of his daddys hand.
James gave his friend another list of clothing he wished for his boy and taking his lad firmly by the hand made his way to the front of the shop. Richard was mortified, his daddy was going to take him out dress like a sissy little boy. Short grey school shorts were somewhat unusual nowadays in an almost fifteen year old boy but these clothes were too much. Again Richard wailed as two boys in the front of the short wailed with laughter, they pointed and giggled at the boy.
"You have my account my dear man, please make sure that my boys clothes are delivered to my house and I square the account away."
With that he took his boys hand and walked out of the shop. Richard didn't dare to look up from his feet. He was a very soundly spanked naughty little boy, and dressed as he was, he knew it; and so did the rest of the world. As the distinguished man and little boy passed the masses on the streets, more than half the population would turn around to see the back of the man and his boy, and they couldn't help but notice two very important things. Here was very sorry little boy, and here was a naughty little boy with freshly smacked red legs showing between the very short velvet shorts and the tops of the girlish white socks.
James stopped in the middle of the road and looked down at his boy.
"You just wait until I get you home little boy. You are not going to sit until your tenth birthday!" he said loudly so that everyone would hear. Little did the public know that this boy would be fifteen and not ten, but then again, nobody would have said that this little boy was more than eight years old judging by how he was dressed.
Mr. James Charles held his little boys hand and quickly walked to his car in long strides. A very naughty, sobbing, little boy in tow. And a sorrier little boy he would be shortly.