I didn't want to be here. I was more than old enough to take care of myself, I'd just turned eighteen damn it, but my mother insisted I stay with Mrs. Johnson for the weekend, while my mother went on a work trip.
We'd moved to the neighborhood years ago, and my mother and Mrs. Johnson were friends, but I hated her. She was too strict, and never let anyone have any fun. I went to school with her daughter, Rebecca, and sure she was cute, but too much like her mother for my tastes.
Anyway, I sat, sullenly, in the living room, while Mrs. Johnson went on about rules for my visit.
"No smoking or drinking, Patrick, and..."
"I don't do either," I told her, resisting a sigh.
"Good, but don't give me lip, young man."
I stayed silent as she continued to list off rules, not paying attention, any more. It didn't matter I would just hide in the guest room anyway. Just two days, that was it. Perfectly doable.
"And dinner is..." she started.
"I'm going to just go to bed, if that's all right," I said quickly. "I don't feel that well. Might have a fever or something, who knows. I'll see you in the morning, though, all right?" I stood up and started to grab my back pack. "I don't want to be a bother, but thank you for letting me stay here," I added, hoping it would smooth my way out.
"A fever?" she asked.
"I mean, probably not, but I..." Damn it.
"Oh no, come here, let's make sure you're all right, I wouldn't want your mother to her that I let you get sick and sicker while under my care. I'll just get a thermometer, you stay put."
Shit. Well. Whatever, she'd find no fever, but I could stand by not feeling well, and still get away with it. She came back and gestured me over to the living room table. I walked over, and held out my hand for the thermometer.
"Just drop your pants and bend over the table and we'll get this over with," she said.
I stood there and stared at her, in shock. "What? No."
"What do you mean no?" she asked. "Young man, you'll do as your told while your in this house or they'll be punishment. Your mother knows I run a tight ship and she agreed I might have to keep you in line."
"I won't break any of your rules," I said, "but I am not dropping my pants, in the middle of the living room." I kept my voice as calm as I could.
"Patrick," Mrs. Johnson said harshly, "I will give you one more chance to behave like a good young man, as you should, but don't test me. If I have to punish you tonight, so help me I will. And if you think you'll resist me, don't. If I have to call your mother..."
There it was. Her threat. And she had me, honestly. My mother would get on the phone, blame me for ruining her work trip and claim everything bad that happened the rest of the weekend was my fault. It would be non-stop for weeks, or longer.
"Please," I tried, "can't we use a normal thermometer, one that goes in my mouth?"
"Oh so you're just embarrassed," she said, and I hoped maybe she'd understand or something, I don't know why I thought it. Don't be silly, I don't care about seeing your you-know-what. I've seen them before, you know. Don't care at all. Now, drop your pants and bend over the table."
"Mrs. Johnson..."
"All right, I told you I would punish you. You just can't be good, can you? Fine, while you're there you'll get a spanking. Now do as I say before I call your mother."
Oh, God damn it. Damn it. I cursed loud and long in my head but I couldn't see a way out of this anymore. Not that didn't end worse for me. If my mother spent all that time blaming me, making me do every single chore, just made my life hell for weeks, I...
I took a deep breath and stepped close to the table, not looking at Mrs. Johnson. I unbuckled my pants, slowly, still refusing to look at her, and pulled my pants and boxers down as one. Then I leaned forward, bending at the hips, until my hands grabbed the edge of the table.
"That's what I thought," she said, and I could hear the smirk in it. I hated her then, more than anyone.
"Spread your legs more," she said, her voice behind me. Gritting my teeth I did as told, and could feel a light breeze from the fan in the room hit the back of my balls as her were fully exposed between my legs from behind.
I'll admit, I never once expected to have my dick out in this living room. Never occurred to me. But here I was, naked from the waist down, bent over, and legs spread.
"Oh hold on," she said, "I forgot the Vaseline. Just stay there, like that."
I heard her footsteps move away and wanted to stand up, to cover myself, to do something, but knew if I did she'd be back soon enough to catch me and this would only get worse.
So I stood there. I just fucking stood there, like an idiot.
A few seconds later her footsteps came back and she muttered something to herself, low, that I couldn't hear. Her hand rested on my right ass cheek and I startled a bit.
"Oh relax," she said, "I just need to spread these a bit, don't over-react. I swear, kids today..." she trailer off and I tried to focus on anything else.
Then a chilly, hard, and slimy object pressed against my asshole. It wasn't big, or anything, but still. I shut my eyes tight as she slid the thermometer into my ass.
"There you go, it'll just be a minute," she said, her hand still resting on my ass.
A minute later, or a month, I couldn't be sure, and I felt her slide the thermometer out of my ass. I released a small breath, then hissed it back in as she wiped my ass with a tissue quickly. As if I couldn't have done that myself? Come on!
"There we go, all done. And see, no fever after all."
"Well," I said, letting go of the table and reaching for my pants quickly, "I still feel a bit off so I Should just go to bed."
"What do you think you're doing, Patrick?" she asked, her voice tinged with annoyance.
"Pulling my pants up?" I said it as a question, not sure why she would be asking me. I had my hands on my waist bands. Did she think I would just shuffle off to the guest room fully exposed, or something?
"There's still your punishment," she said. "Get back into position."
"Excuse me?" I asked.
"For your spanking. Let go of those pants, and grab the table again, young man. Don't think I'll go easy on you, either. This could've been over and done with a while ago if you had just behaved."
I wanted to curse her out, but I didn't see a choice. Fine, let her spank my ass a few times, then I could get away from her.
"Spread your legs more," she said, standing at my side.
"I can't spread them any further," I told her. It was true, my pants and underwear bunched around my feet prevented it.
"Step out of those pants, then, I don't have all day."
Fine, just fine. Not like she couldn't see, correction: hadn't seen, everything down there already. My balls hung there, and thankfully my dick stayed soft, all six inches of flaccid cock on display to her from the side. I couldn't imagine also being hard in front of her. This was bad enough as it was.
Thwack!
No warning, she just hit me, hard. I yelped and jumped. It hurt!
"Stay still, Patrick," she said, "and quiet. No need to be dramatic."
Dramatic? No, it hurt. She had hands like steel. Fuck.
Thwack!
"Ow!" I let out, biting the word back as soon as I could.
"I told you...
"It hurts. Look I'm sorry I didn't just obey you. Can we just be done?"
"Oh no, young man, not yet."
Thwack!
Thwack!
