DISCLAIMER: The following story is a fictional group of random thought particles from the recesses of my mind. The setting of the series is based off the works of Lurking Dragon's Rejuve Universe in accordance with his writer's guide. This random stream of semi-conscious thought depicts a disciplinary spanking of a rejuvenated children. If this offends your carefully cultured sensibilities, or you have yet to reach the rank of major in what you think is society, then please recycle these electrons to save bandwidth sooner than possible.
—Rogue (whose existence has yet to be disproved)
Wild Sleepover
Friday, 7th of September 2773,
Part 9 of Pint-Sized Engineer
Friday was finally here for Rodger. The Gunny picked him and Brian up from school in the hovercar — instead of the normal hoverbike — because Brian was finally getting to sleep over. They'd had to wait until it was not a school night. Rodger had been excited about it all week, especially as Project: Tutor was still having the wreckage being transferred to the warehouse. Brian had brought an extra bag with his overnight stuff with him to school so that he could go straight to the Murphie's after school.
Rodger's mother had a snack ready for them when they got home.
“Welcome to our home Brian. I'm glad you could come,” Melanie greeted her ward's young guest.
“Thank you for having me, Governor Murphie,” Brian answered before continuing. “My parents also thank you for inviting me and send their best wishes, and have — besides reminding me to be on my best behavior — told me that I will be under your rules.”
“And Mom, he knows what that means,” Rodger chimed in.
“You're welcome, Brian. Now why don't you boys finish your snacks, then go up to Rodger's room and get your homework out of the way, so that you'll be free for the rest of your time to play.”
“Yes, Ma'am.” “Yes, Mom,” they chimed before digging into their cookies. When they finished their snacks, they took their bags up to Rodger's room. Rodger offered to let Brian use his compu-desk as he could do most of his homework — except the work on his Diaspora model — on his PADD.
After working for a while, Brian stopped in his work to say something that he'd had on his mind for a while, “Rodger, I have something I've been meaning to ask you.”
Rodger saved his file and put his PADD aside. “Sure, shoot.”
“Well... it's about the Science Fair. I've never been much good at them. I mean, I rock at researching and compiling the science report. I've even been a science correspondent. But I suck at building things — which means I normally scrape a passing grade for the project — but a few sheets of paper on a backing board looks really bad at the fair.”
“So? You're not a Penny. A passing grade is not a big problem.”
“Yeah, well, you know my Dad has been making a big deal over the fair. Oh, he only expects me to do my best. But your mom is in politics too. You got to know how bad it would look for the Minister of Education if his own son appears to have done a slipshod job at something he's been pushing?”
“Ah, I see what you mean now,” Rodger nodded with comprehension.
“Can you help me?”
“Sure, Brian. What have you been working on?”
“A project on quicksand, how it works, how it's dangerous, and how it's not.”
“Hum... well, you could do a diorama with a cross-section of the quicksand. Do you have any action figures? Especially ones with automated leg action?”
“Yes — oh I see! Can you help me make it?” Brian pleaded.
“I can advise you, but you know the rules: it has to be your own work. Let me read your report,” Rodger asked. The boys went over the report together. Using only what was in Brian's report and asking him questions, Rodger showed him how to model those conditions in the C.A.D. program. They had something that could be used as instructions for the fabricator by the time when Melanie came up to check on them and tell them to get washed up for dinner.
.oOo.
After dessert Melanie had a surprise for them. “So boys, what do you think about having a small camp out in the backyard for your sleepover?”
Both boys realized this would mean less likelihood of getting caught talking after lights out. So without discussing it they quickly agreed to the suggestion. Under the Gunny's discreet supervision the boys set up the tent; Brian taking the lead to show off his Sentient Cub Scout skills that Akela had taught him. Once that was out of the way they decided to take turns on Rodger's hoverboard until sunset.
Melanie came out and got them settle down into the tent for the evening before she retired back into the house herself.
But the boys were not ready just yet to stop having fun. So laying on their sleeping bags in pajamas, they started to tell each other a collaborate story to fit the diorama; intrepid explorers who run afoul of the treacherous quicksand. As time went by, the two boys' tent was not big enough to contain the adventures of Lucky Starr and Indiana Jones. So they left the tent for the copse of trees at the back of the property, to become their unexplored jungle in mysterious dark of the night.
Lost in their shared imagined world they didn't pay too much attention to where their adventures took them. Until suddenly the illusion was shattered when they were bathed in floodlights and an alarm pierced the night. They quickly shifted from heroic explorers to pajama-ed little boys caught out of bed as a group of Colonial Guards descended on their location.
Gunny Cait arrived on the scene after he had checked on the tent, took charge of the situation and had the alarm and lights turned off.
“Well boys, I think Governor Murphie will want a word with you over your improv test of the security system.”
With a paw on each of the napes of the boys' necks, Gunny led them back to the house and into the living room where Melanie was disconnecting a holoview call.
“Here's your strays, Ma'am.”
“Thank you Gunny, can you please go make sure Major Beerbohm has notified the police that it was a false alarm? The last thing we need is the neighbors to be further disturbed by them descending sirens blaring.”
“Right away, Ma'am,” said Gunny before he left the two very guilty looking boys alone with Melanie.
“O.K. First off boys, regardless of anything else you two will be visiting the neighbors and apologize to them.”
“Then I'm not going to be sent home early, Governor Murphie?” Brian asked, trying to meet her eye. He was regretting more the impression he must be making with his friend's mother than he was for being in trouble.
“No Brian, I see no reason we need to bring an early close to our plans. Though I do want you to tell me your sides. I already grant you two a pass for still being up so long past bedtime given this is the first time you two have had a sleepover together. It's why I suggested the idea of the tent in the first place. However that doesn't explain what you two were doing out of bed this late at night, on the back property line. Care to explain? Brian?”
Brian recognized this approach from when he used to stay with his traditionalist sister-in-law when he was a Kindern; and knew why he wasn't being sent home. They were being given a chance to explain any mitigating circumstances she might have missed. And he also noticed he was given the chance to set the tone, probably because he was the guest.
“We didn't mean to leave the property, or let alone set off the alarm, Ma'am. We were just playing amongst the trees,” answered Brian, trying to meet her eyes despite the shame over his behaviour.
“What about you, Rodger,” Melanie said turning to her boy, “anything to add?”
Rodger figured that he, too, would have have his turn to explain under her gaze. He thought hard on what would be a good answer. He didn't want to get his friend spanked by his mom on Brian's first visit. But he saw the rule they broke, and they were caught on the wrong side of the tent for the one excuse he could think of, so he went a different tack.
“Mom, it's my fault. I didn't explain to Brian that once put to bed that—barring needing to go potty—we were meant to stay there 'til morning. So please let me put his part of the blame on me.”
Brian turned in surprise to look at his friend while Melanie answered, “That's very noble of you, Rodger. However Brian is a rejuve also, and as such also knows better. Bedtime is still bedtime, not wandering-in-the-yard-in-your-pajamas time. While I did collaborate in helping you not get caught talking, assuming you had kept it to a reasonable volume, that did not change any of the other rules. Since neither of you deny breaking the rule without cause, we might as well get on with it so I can get you both back into bed where you belong. Either of you want to go first?”
After a few moments pause, Rodger decided it would be better for his guest if he stepped up first. “I will, Mom.”
Melanie gave both boys a quick calculating look before she stepped over to the ottoman and sat down.
“O.K. Rodger, come stand here,” she said, pointing to the floor in front of her. When Rodger managed to move himself to the indicated spot, he was not lifted over her lap like he had expected. Instead she placed her hands on his shoulders and made him turn around until he faced away from her. She let go and moved her hands down to the flap of his Dr. Dentons to undo the contact 'snaps' and bare his derrière. Next she hooked her hands under his armpits, lifted and laid her son in the now familiar position over her lap. Melanie rested her hand on his exposed nether cheeks for a moment before she methodically applied her palm to them. Rodger could not help but squirm from the sting even from only her hand, though he was pretty sure this was just a preliminary for breaking such a basic rule that resulted in waking the neighbours.
He wasn't wrong, for once his exposed bottom and sitspots were sufficiently pinkened, his mother paused to look up at Brian and asked, “Brian, will you please fetch me my Helper Paddle? You will find it in my purse on the entry table.”
That brought Brian out of his reverie from watching Governor Murphie's spanking technique, fascinated by the knowledge he was to be next. The longer Rodger was spanked, the longer until he would take his place, but the worse the spanking would be.
“Yeah... I mean, yes, Ma'am,” said Brian when he snapped out of his daze. He did not dawdle with his task when she continued to land slow steady spanks while she waited for Brian to return, so not to prolong his friend's spanking.
When armed with the iconic implement of maternal chastisement, Melanie went to work properly on turning Rodger into a truly sorry little boy. This really got Rodger kicking and Brian worriedly gained a new respect for her abilities.
“I'm sorry, Mommy,” Rodger pleaded through his tear-filled wailing while his rump was roasted.
Melanie didn't belabor the point to long with the light paddle. After all, while the rule was important to make sure little boys got the sleep they needed, these boys still needed to face the neighbours. Plus, she didn't want to overwhelm their waiting guest. Setting aside the Helper Paddle, she waited long enough for Rodger to realize that the paddy-whacks had stopped. But instead of pulling him up into a hug, she set him on his feet. She beckoned the waiting Brian to the spot in front of her as Rodger began his Brat War Dance.
As Brian shuffled closer to his fate, Melanie looked over his lightweight two-piece transformers print pajamas. She quickly considered the fairness issue of it. She had bought Rodger Dr. Dentons pajamas because they were traditional — plus, she thought they were cute — but was planning to let Rodger choose when he outgrew his current sets whether he wanted to switch to two-piece ones or to stick with the style. If they had both been wearing that style it wouldn't have mattered. She would have taken them down before putting either of them over her lap. Modesty wasn't for misbehaving little boys.
However this was Brian's first time, and Rodger's pajamas had afforded him some modesty. And neither of them were in more trouble than the other. In trying to decide how to make it equal, she hit on the solution. When Brian made the final shuffle into spot, she treated him exactly the same. She took his shoulders and turned him to face away, grabbed his waistband and bared his preteen tush by pulling his pajama bottoms to his knees. Lifting him by his arm pits, she deposited Brian into Rodger's vacated spot, thereby giving him equal modesty without really giving him any.
Melanie also began Brian's first trip over her lap likewise with her hand. Though she made sure to limit herself to his bottom and sit spots, like Rodger had gotten, and to leave his exposed thighs alone. She also noted Brian was no stranger to this position as he was trying to fight the reflexive clenching; to which Melanie helped by timing her warm-up swats to the moments he was unclenched. When his squirming began in earnest as his nether cheeks came to temp, the clenching lessened as Brian put his effort into not crying. But like the clenching, that too fell to the wayside when Melanie switched to the Helper Paddle. About the time Brian's tears began to flow in earnest, Rodger stopped being preoccupied with his own flaming backside to settle down and notice Brian's predicament.
Rodger had never seen his wife turn mother spank anyone before. And being neither a Penitatas nor a spanko couple they didn't bother to use the holovid to record his own. So as Brian kicked and cried under Melanie's helper paddle Rodger got a glimps what he, himself must look like when he went on a trip to sorebottom city. While Rodger had accepted he was a minor again, his self-image was more of a teen but if he looked anything like Brian did over his mother's lap, it made him feel smaller.
When Melanie had matched the boy's rouge color nether cheeks, she had both of them sit on her lap for a cuddle until they regained their composure. But before they could fall asleep on her lap — because as she admitted to them, they were too big for her to carry both of them at the same time — she gently led them by the hand back out to their tent, and tucked them in. She figured that while they might be too worn out now to appreciate this, but come morning they would find where they woke up as a sign of forgiveness; at least on her part.
When morning came, the boys were greeted with a hot breakfast, as if the late night shenanigans had never happened. This also included not sleeping in any later than planned. After all, they could always be put down for a nap in the afternoon.
They spent the morning dressed in smocks on a drop cloth painting their science fair projects. Just before lunch they were given a bath together to make them presentable once again.
Once dressed and fed, Melanie informed them, “O.K. Boys, I think it's time for you to make your rounds of apologies.”
The boys sat in the foyer putting on their sneakers while the Gunny waited to escort them.
“Brian, you do know what I'm expected to say to my neighbors, right?” Rodger asked.
“I take it you mean as a traditionalist child, rather than, how to say, a general apology,” Brian answered glumly.
“Yeah.”
“Pretty much. I'm not looking forward to it. I was serious when I said my parents put me fully under your mom's rules for the visit. How many neighbours do you have that we got to visit?”
“Six, that are reasonably close enough that we might have woken. You know my neighbors don't know you are under the same rules. I could phrase it in a way that leaves you out of it,” Rodger offered.
“Rodger, come on. You know your mom is going to call them too — to give her own apology — and will find out if we don't do what's expected. And even if your mom doesn't hold me to it, she works with my dad. It will get back to my parents... and they will!”
“In that case, do you trust me to choose the order of visits, even if it means having to do more walking?”
“Sure, they're your neighbours, you know them best,” acknowledged Brian.
So with determined resignation the boys set off into tropical midday, heading first to the home of the elderly human exobiologist Dr. Slonczewski. Rodger warned Brian not to step off the path because the Doctor used his yard as an experimental area and would flip out if they wandered through it. The Gunny waited for them at the gate as they went up and rang the bell.
“Well, if it isn't young master Murphie, and cohort. I see disrupting my sleep last night wasn't enough, but now you plague me when I'm working on my personal projects?” said Dr. Slonczewski when he finally opened the door.
Brian was taken about by the gruff greeting. He gave Rodger a worried look and wondered why his friend chose to start with this grouchy old codger.
But Rodger was prepared and answered, “I'm really sorry if our timing was bad, Dr. Slonczewski. This is my friend Brian Herbert. We have come to offer our apologies if our misbehavior disturbed you.”
When Rodger paused for breath, Brian added, “It was never our intention to disrupt your sleep then, or your work now. We are sorry for that.”
Then Rodger continued, “We were both soundly spanked for our misbehavior that lead to the disturbance by my mother — who, you are aware, is a traditionalist. So if you feel further punishment for the actual disturbance is needed, it would be acceptable with her.”
Brian gave Rodger a quick 'look' for trying to keep him out of it — despite what he said earlier — for the Doctor seemed to be exactly the grouchy type that would mention the difference. So he put in, “And my parents put me under Governor Murphie's rules for my stay, so that applies as equally to me, as I was as equally responsible.”
Dr. Slonczewski looked grumpy down at the rejuved boys, momentarily torn between the potential satisfaction and expediency of getting back to work, when an idea dawned on him. He stepped aside and gestured, “Come on in then boys, I will make time to entertain your offers.”
The pair resignedly followed the Doctor into his living room, Brian hoping that the Doctor was not a fair indication of what to expect from the Murphie's other neighbors. Dr. Slonczewski looked over his room for a suitable area, before he cleared from the long coffee table in front of his couch his notes. He then lifted one end of the table and moved it so it made a right angle with the couch and put it back down.
“Right, off with the shorts and underwear, but don't bother with your shoes. You can put them neatly on the table,” the Doctor ordered as he went and sat in the middle of the couch.
Both boys slowly complied. While the colony was slowly being influenced by the Jalaxian lack of nudity taboo, the boys were not totally desensitized to it, and they didn't know the Doctor very well, so they found it embarrassing to go bare from t-shirt hem to sock top in front of him; but also knew when they were in trouble that was no excuse.
“Hands on heads while you are waiting for me to deal with your fellow cohort,” Dr. Slonczewski ordered. When the boys had complied with his directive he considered on who to chose first. He decided on the Voluntaras as the Medicalos had been demonstrating a leadership between them, so should have the 'privilege' of watching and waiting as his follower paid his dues for where he had led. “Right, Brian wasn't it? Come here and lay yourself over my lap.”
Brian came forward and placed his knee up onto the couch and awkwardly laid down and across his lap, not being used to the make them do it school of spanker authority. He decided that with this spanker trying to take it stoically for as long as possible would probably be the best way to go. As he did not seem the type to be swayed by parental mercy.
The Doctor adjusted Brian on his lap so that Brian's left arm was behind his own back, trapped between him and the couch, took the boy's right wrist in his own left hand and held it in the small of Brian's back. Dr. Slonczewski then pushed up his right leg to give his target a little elevation. A target that was clearly outlined as Brian had the typical tropical tan everywhere, except where his brief swimwear covered his skin which was snowy white, with a little residue pink from his late night activities that could be noticed if you payed attention. Without further preamble the Doctor brought his hand down with a solid *SMACK* on Brian's upturned bare bottom. His hand was solid from years working as much in the field as in the lab, so that he could put Brian's resolve of stoicism to the strain. Nor did the Doctor give Brian much time to recover from the pain, because just as the fullness of the spank's intensity began to register, down came the next *SMACK*, overlapping, mixing fresh with spanked skin. The Doctor kept up the strong and steady hail of spanks until Brian's derrière was a distinctive naughty boy shade, but no more.
So when Brian was allowed to stand with command not to rub — despite for a very wet face — he had managed not to squirm or cry out. Although the spanking would have been substantial to a Kindern, it was far less than he had expected to get from the Doctor. Rodger, emboldened by what he witnessed, was less hesitant when it was time to swap poses with Brian, even though a hand spanking from the Doctor did not quite match his plan. But knowing what to expect made it easier to match Brian's stoicism.
After the tear-faced Rodger was once again standing next to Brian with his hands on his head, Dr. Slonczewski changed Brian's relief and Rodger's concern when he told them to stay there while he left the room, only to return with a Swipper™ that he gave to Rodger.
A Swipper™ looks like a high-tech nutcracker with a round hole down at the hinge end, popular with parents of Penitatas and younger rejuves. It is basically safety scissors for making switches. It can be preset with a parental lock to a maximum and/or minimum thickness of an object it wrapped around. It only cuts plant matter and ignores any fingers or plastic ties placed in it. It also coats the tree's stub with a substance that encourages the tree to regrow the branch without harm to the tree itself. Furthermore the Swipper™ can be used to strip the branch down into a more proper switch.
“Now that you are properly attired, you two can help me test a project I've been working on. There is a Hiroko Birch tree on the edge of the path down by the gate. I've been working on adapting it to Shinho soil. You are to each cut yourselves a switch, and bring it back. But I warn you now, if you cut one that's too short for your ages, I will use it on you anyway, then send you back for a proper one. Now scoot.”
As the Gunny saw the pair with their reddened bottoms come down the path towards the gate with no sign of their lower garments he called out, “Aren't you two forgetting something?”
Rodger held up the Swipper™ and answered, “Dr. Slonczewski isn't done with us just yet, Gunny.”
Cait nodded, and watched the boys look over the Hiroko Birch.
A Hiroko Birch is a genetically engineered pear-shaped birch tree that was popularly imported to most established colonies whose ecosystem can handle their introduction. The lower half of the pear bulge is at child height, even in a full grown tree. They tend to be stiff but supple, increasing in thickness as well as length until they reach the widest part of the bulge. This results in branches suitable for switches within easy reach of a child as they grow. Furthermore the tree will not be harmed by their removal, and will quickly replace them.
The boys quickly conferred over which would satisfy Dr. Slonczewski as neither wanted a second trip, and quickly cut and stripped their own one, in case the Doctor was watching. Then they hurried back into the house, as much to get out of public view as not to get accused of dawdling. The Doctor found the switches slightly longer than intended but that was solved by simply holding them in the right place. They were of course of suitable thickness because he had set the Swipper™ so that it would only work on the ones that were. After all, despite being annoyed with the pair, they weren't pennies; no need to give them too many ways to earn extra.
“Right, both of you go over to the coffee table, and bend over so that your palms are flat on its top,” commanded Dr. Slonczewski. Once the boys were in place he put Rodger's switch down so that it laid across its forger's hands.
“If you want this over quickly, I recommend you stay in place until I tell you that you can get up,” the Doctor advised as he lined up Brian's switch on its creator's red tail light. When he was ready he lifted it up, then brought it down with a swish...*thwip* onto the taut buttocks that quickly formed a welt as the Doctor waited until Brian had recovered from the stroke, before a giving a repeated swish...*thwip*, but this time lower on his red orbs.
The pause and the swish...*thwip* were repeated for another stroke, this time above the existing parallel welts.
Brian was taking longer to recover, for all the help to prevent extra, the Doctor was not going lightly with the switch, and Brian was feeling each stroke in its own agonizing fullness. He ceded crying and wailing from his stoicism so that his effort could go into remaining in place for however many cuts of the switch he was going to get.
Swish...*thwip* it went again, this time lower, down to where there was more tan than pale skin on his bottom.
Rodger could only stare at his own switch as he listened to Brian howl out, hoping the count would be over soon. Not only for his friend's sake, but his own too, for he was sure he would be getting no less.
Swish...*thwip* came the fifth cut. But not higher, but lower yet, in the most tender crease of Brian's sitspots. Brian almost shot up in response, but managed to stay down, enough that the Doctor did not say anything about breaking position before the sixth swish...*thwip* came down, crossing the first five. Before Brian could beg for no more, the Doctor spoke.
“Right, stayed in position, so don't ruin it now by getting up while I deal with young master Murphie,” he said as he put the switch aside for later study. Then he stepped aside so he was ready for his new target.
While in the three weeks since his rejuve Rodger had developed a tan, though not as deep as Brian's. Furthermore because he had not taken his swimming lessons yet, his Irish white skin covered a larger area of his short shorts, the rouge hue from the earlier hand spanking had as much spread as Brian's.
Rodger had a slightly easier time enduring his six cuts of his switch, not because his switch was any less nasty, nor raised less vivid welts, but simply because he knew how many he had to endure, and could count down 'only so many more' in his head. But it was still hard to keep position. If it hadn't been for the table's support he was sure he would have fallen forwards on his fifth stroke, for while he knew how many to expect, he hadn't seen where they had landed on Brian.
Once Rodger had settled down as much as Brian had after his half dozen cuts, the Doctor said, “Right then, you two can get dressed. Oh, and young master Murphie, tell your mother that if the results of this test turn out well, she is welcome to send you to the tree whenever she needs to.”
Gingerly pulling his shorts up, so as not to snap the elastic waistband against his inflamed posterior, Rodger answered with a sniffle, “I... I thank you on her behalf, and I will pass on the offer. And once again I am sorry we disturbed you.”
“Just don't let it happen again, and we will forget it ever happened. Right, now off with the pair of you, I got to get back to my work.”
Once outside with the door closed, Brian give his bottom a proper rub. And complained, “Friendly old coot, ain't he? Why did you start with him, Rodger? That didn't half hurt and you said we still have five houses left to go.”
“If my plan works, it will be clear enough shortly,” Rodger replied. Then he asked the Gunny as they got to him, “Gunny, the alarm is off now?”
“Sure, visual monitoring during the day, Rodger.”
“O.K. Then, this way,” said Rodger and led them across his yard to the Kindern side of the property.
At the curb the Gunny was left waiting for them again as they went up to the Scarborough's front door.
“I'll get it, Mom,” came a voice before a tween Kindern girl opened the door. “Oh hello Rodger, who's your friend?”
“Hi Ann, this is Brian. We need to speak to one of your parents. Is one of them free?” asked Rodger.
“Sure, Dad's not home,” she replied before she turned and yelled into the house, “Mom! Rodger and his friend are here to see you!”
“No need to shout, young lady, I was coming, I was expecting these two little men,” Mrs. Scarborough reproved her daughter as she came to the door.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Scarborough. This is my friend Brian Herbert. We have come to offer our apologies if our misbehavior disturbed you last night. And to make any necessary amends. As you know, my mom, like you, is also a traditionalist.”
“And I'm effectively a traditionalist child today as well, Mrs. Scarborough,” Brian added. “So all that goes for me too.”
“Well, I want a turn with them over my lap, Mom,” Ann chimed in. “After all, they woke me too.”
“Ann,” her mother said, “You have yet to take your babysitting course, and as your father is out, I'll be the one making that call.” Then to the boys, “Well, about face and present boys, let's see what amends you can offer.”
Blushing due to the presence of a Kindern girl not much physically older than their rejuved selves, they nevertheless turned around and pulled their shorts and undies down to their knees to display their struck red moons.
“Wow, their botties look like red sheet music,” said Ann in wounder.
“They are called welts, honey, and by the looks of them probably caused by a switch,” Mrs. Scarborough explained. Then to the boys, “But I thought Melanie said she was going to deal with you before putting you two back to bed. But these look much more fresh than that.”
“They are. Mom did spank us last night for getting out of bed to play after we'd been tucked in. And it is switch stripes — among other things — for disturbing other neighbours.” explained Rodger being very careful to tell only the truth, while implying more than the one session.
“What is a switch?” asked Ann.
Mrs. Scarborough answered, “It's a type of traditional spanking implement made from a flexible tree branch.”
“It's one of those other implements, isn't it?” Ann ventured.
“Yes it is, it will be covered by the course when you are older,” her mother confirmed. “Have a feel on the welts.”
The boys stayed still while Ann edged forward, aware that this could still go either way for them, and they hadn't been given permission to leave the position. They winced as Ann swapped back and forth between their bottoms, running her fingers across the welts tentatively at first, but working up the nerve to give the welts a good prod.
Meanwhile Mrs. Scarborough used the moment of her's daughter's little lesson to decide the fate of the two wayward rejuves.
“Got a good feel what a welt is like, Ann?” Mrs. Scarborough asked her daughter to prompt her to finish up.
“Yes, Mom,” said Ann, withdrawing her hand, having taken the hint, and stepped back from the bent-over boys. Who were much relieved that her ministrations of their sore bottoms had stopped.
Mrs. Scarborough rendered her verdict, “Well, I see no need to add to your bottom's discomfort for the same misdeed, however those pristine thighs have been sorely neglected. I'll rectify that for you.”
With a flurry of smacks to their thighs, Mrs. Scarborough had the pair hopping. So that when she let them pull up their pants, her hand-prints were clearly visible below their hemlines.
Ann gleefully watched, much preferring this vantage point to the one she normally 'enjoyed' for a thigh-smacking. She was only slightly disappointed when she was denied permission to go with the boys when they were dismissed. For which Brian and Rodger were grateful; for their next stop was only just next door.
They indicated to the Gunny they were going to use the side gate that joined the Scarborough and Moon residents. They knocked on the door, which was hastily answered by Mrs. Beth Moon, who stepped out on the porch and closed the door behind her.
“Hello boys,” she greeted them in a quiet voice. “Your timing hasn't improved, I just managed to put my pair down for their naps. What can I do for you?”
Picking up on why her tones were hushed, they repeated their apologies at a similar volume. Though Rodger added, “Sorry for our continued bad timing, we just came from Mrs. Scarborough's. If you want, we can come back later.”
“No real need for, if my two weren't asleep, I might have been tempted to see you boys 'moonstruck'. But as is, I'll let Liz's handiwork be enough.”
“Thank you, Ma'am,” they gratefully chimed, though careful not to be too loud lest they disrupt the reason for their reprieve.
While walking to the remaining neighbours, Rodger happily commented to Brian, “Well, my plan is working better than I expected.”
“How so?” Brian asked as he ruefully rubbed his smarting bottom.
“Well, Dr. Slonczewski would have spanked us regardless, he's a really cranky codger. But that's why I went there first. Mrs. Scarborough was a bit iffy, if we had gone to Mrs. Moon's first before her preschoolers went down for their nap, she would have probably hand-spanked us. And Mrs. Scarborough would have probably given us a full spanking on top of it, so that would have been three full spankings. I don't expect Mrs. Frankowski or any of the other will really even consider spanking us, though they will be happy for the apology.”
“Ah I see! Yeah, I would have hated to take the switching after two previous spankings.”
Rodger's prediction came true. They didn't even need to show rouge derrières at any of the other homes; Mrs. Scarborough's hand-prints took any doubts away before that happened. But the rounds did take their tolls, on top of the limited sleep they had before, so the pair took their cue from the Moon children and took a nap when they got back to Rodger's.
