Letter of Regret

45 The Avenue

Brocklehurst

 

Dear Mr. Lesame,

I am writing to you to say sorry about breaking the window in your greenhouse with my cricket ball. I know you told us many times not to play cricket outside your house but we ignored you.

After you told my Dad he was very cross with me. He said I had disgraced the family. He said I was rude and arrogant and ill disciplined. He said I needed to be taken down a peg or two. He would give me the spanking of my life.

Dad believes that we must be accountable for our actions. He has taught me this all my life and I think he is right and I take responsibility for disobeying you and breaking your window. I am eighteen and I should act like an adult. If I cannot do this then Dad says I should be treated like a child.

That is what he did. I stood remorsefully in the sitting room while he lectured me some about my behaviour and then he sent me to my room and told me to get into my pyjamas. It wasn’t long before Dad came in. “Mitch, I’m sorry I have to do what I am about to do, but I’ve got to teach you never, ever to do anything like that again,” he said.

He had a hairbrush in his hand. The bristles are all worn down on it and it isn’t much good for brushing hair (Dad’s practically bald anyway), it is the wide, flat wooden type that is ideal for spanking.

He sat down on the edge of my bed. I knew what was coming and I started blubbing because I was really going to get it. My legs were shaking as he made me come to his side. I was horrified when he yanked my pj’s down so my bum was bare. They fell at my feet and then Dad ordered me to step out of them. Man was he mad. I knew I was going to get it hot.

He told me to bend over his knees. I am just the right height so that the palms of my hands rested in the carpet in the front and my toes just touched the ground at the back. My bare buttocks were arched over his lap. I felt his arm hold me firmly over his knee. Now, I was staring at the carpet (not an unfamiliar position) while my bum was in front of his face and my cock was rubbing against his thigh.

Dad was true to his word. He gave me a spanking like I never had before. Within seconds I was kicking and screaming. The hairbrush landed again and again on my red and now very sore bottom. Blisters started forming as he spanked me over and over. I yelped, I wailed, I yelled. Nothing was stopping him from giving me the whacking of my life.

Dad tanned my bare bottom so well that at the end all I could do was sink to my knees and grabbing my toasted bottom bawl my eyes out for a few moments. By the time Dad left me to nurse my battered bum, I felt about six years old. After Dad left the room I flopped face-down on my bed, trying to quiet my choking sobs. Tears flowed freely down my face as I tried to rub the soreness away from my scarlet bottom. I had spent the best part of ten minutes struggling across Dad’s knees, bottom bared as he very soundly and thoroughly spanked my eighteen-year-old bottom with his hairbrush.

Dad says he hopes I have learned my lesson and that you will approve of the punishment he has given me. But, he says if you don’t think I have been disciplined enough he will give you permission to take down my trousers and pants and haul me over your knee for a spanking on the bare bottom.

Yours Faithfully,

Michael Manning.

P.S. I’m horny as Hell, see you Thursday after school.

 

Picture credit: CP Services London

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The padded armchair

Caught in their underpants

Housemate pays the rent

 

More stories from Charles Hamilton II are on the MMSA website

 

Charles Hamilton the Second

charleshamiltonthesecond@gmail.com