Before My First Real Job Ch. 02

Things changed quickly after that first spanking (yes, there were more).

Elizabeth wasn’t playing around, she wouldn’t hold back and was relentless every time she spanked me. Each spanking was longer than the last and they were always terribly painful, leaving me bruised and sometimes bleeding. I don’t know if I was building calluses or muscle, but sometimes I wouldn’t bleed and it wasn’t because they were less severe spankings. I couldn’t believe people would spank children, but I had to remind myself they probably weren’t spanked anywhere near as much or as hard as I was.

The first time, leaving me in tears and sucking my thumb, worked well, and I made damn sure I was early or on time for every feeding after that. It was weird, I registered how well it worked on me and convinced myself that meant I must have deserved it. A belief I shared in common with Elizabeth as she had decided to spank me anytime I displeased her. She grew more strict and enforced more rules, so I ended up displeasing her often.

The second time she spanked me was for making a suckling sound only a few days later when she was on the phone while nursing me. That was my fault. She told me to stay silent, but I was hungry. The outcome was much the same, me sitting on my bruised bare bottom on the kitchen tile floor after the spanking of a lifetime, sobbing like a little child.

I distinctly remember the second spanking because she answered the phone in the middle of teaching me a lesson, it was my mother calling. Mom knew I was here during the evenings, she thought I was being tutored in business analysis by Elizabeth to help my career and called to check up on me.

“Yes, he’s here, June.” Elizabeth said over the phone as a hard smack came down on my bottom. “Oh that? That was just the TV. We are taking a break, this lesson is taking longer than expected.”

Elizabeth continued to spank by bottom repeatedly, while she talked on the phone to my mother. “Yes, I’m sorry he’s here so late, but he’s having a really hard time learning his lesson tonight and so I need to teach him more. Yes, I know how difficult he can be!”

The spanking was unbearable and I started crying. Elizabeth held one hand over the phone’s receiver and ordered me, “Put your thumb in your mouth!”

She continued spanking me hard. I didn’t know how long this was going to last and it had already been much longer than the first spanking.

“What’s that?” she said, back on the phone with Mom. “Oh, no, I said ‘Put your tongue in your mouth.’ Danny stuck his tongue out at me when I called him difficult. Don’t you worry, I’ll be sure to make sure he doesn’t do that again.”

Elizabeth wrapped up her conversation with my mother and sighed heavily.

“Danny, your mother doesn’t like it when you stick your tongue out at people.” she scolded me.

“I didn’t!” I pleaded, taking my thumb out of my mouth.

“Yes, but if she doesn’t like when you do it, that means you’ve done it before.” Elizabeth started spanking me furiously. “You don’t stick your tongue out at people!”

“I’m sorry!” was all I could think to say. Now I was getting spanked for something I didn’t do.

“We were almost done with this lesson but now you need to learn how to show people respect!” she yelled angrily. “Put your thumb back in your mouth, I know this is going to make you cry again.”

She was right. I cried much, much more that night. All for something stupid I never did.

I vowed I was done with my visits after that night, but again, I showed up early the next morning. I was very hungry, and ended up earning myself yet another spanking, even though my bum was still terribly bruised from the brutal punishment the night before.

I burped after she fed me breakfast and I guess it was close to her face. She used the hairbrush that time and I avoided sitting down anywhere for a week. Mom thought I was in a fight, even when I got home later that evening, since my eyes were still swollen so much from crying so hard. I considered going to the doctor, because I thought I might have needed stitches on my bottom.

The fourth time she spanked me? Hell if I know. I don’t remember, I couldn’t have been doing anything out of the ordinary. I was on my hands and knees scrubbing her kitchen floor when she came in from the other room, lifted me off the ground with almost one arm, while the other pulled my pants down, and I was over her thighs as she sat on the kitchen table chair, bare bottomed, screaming and crying.

“You never learn!” she screamed as she systematically came down in long strikes with her right hand. “I am going to start adding twenty spanks each time I need to teach you a lesson!”

I wasn’t exaggerating, each time was literally the hardest spanking of my lifetime.

I tried to call her bluff once. She was lying, it had to be way more than twenty. She was so strict and in love with the rules, I wanted to see if I could count the number of spanks of two consecutive lessons and see if there was actually a difference of twenty.