Teddy's life was getting more complicated for now that he had passed his 12th birthday. He had new feelings, and his Mom was just not understanding. They engaged in some nasty verbal sparring, which Teddy always lost and felt bad about, and his schoolwork was going downhill. He also was finding a new crowd of kids, who favored cigarettes, beer and hanging out at the 7-11 late at night as their forms of recreation. The problem was Mom. She was really his stepmother and had taken quite good care of him since his Dad died almost two years ago. His father's last request was that Mom should treat the boy as her own son and that Ted act like a man. Much easier said than done, they both found out. At her wit's end, Mrs. Wilcox, finally heard from a friend about a counselor who specialized in young adolescents. The night Teddy came home at 11 o'clock on a Friday night without having told his mom where he had been, a big battle broke out, with Ted telling his mother she was an old fart (actually, at 40, she was trim and men considered her attractive) and Mom yelling and crying. "It's time you got some discipline, young man," she finally said, as they squared off in the kitchen. Mrs. Wilcox went to the pantry, and procured a wide leather belt. To Teddy's surprise, she advanced toward him, grabbed his upper left arm and pinched him toward the kitchen table. "owwwww," he whined. "I don't know how to do this, Teddy, but I am going to give you a licking, do you understand!!!" "Mommmmm!!!" he whined. "Don't you dare hit me! Noooo!!!!" "You're getting a licking, young man, or you will be pulled out of school and grounded forever!" Teddy, who hated himself already for making his hard-working mother so upset, figured since she didn't know how to do this, he wouldn't put up too much of a fight. She half-wrestled him over the edge of the table and swiftly pulled down his sweat pants. Teddy whined and squealed, grunted and ooofed, but there he was, pinned down by her left hand and his underpants right on the firing line. Just as Mom was raising the doubled over strap, the phone rang. She hesitated for a moment, her spirit sank and she answered the phone. In the meantime, Teddy, no fool, had arisen from the table and scootched his sweat pants back up. The phone conversation was brief, and Mom approached her confused son. "Teddy," she said, her voice aquiver, "Sometimes you make me crazy. Look what you almost made me do?" she continued, almost crying. "I should have done it a long time ago, son, but I just can't." "That was Mrs. Jurgens on the phone, and she's a counselor I want you to see tomorrow. I wish your dad was here, or somebody, to help you out with your problems. But she is very very good, I'm told. And I want you to see her at two o'clock tomorrow. She's just around the corner on Lonely Street." Teddy, now ashamed that he was causing his mother a bad time, and realizing he HAD been a bit out of control, looked up from under his mop of brown hair and said softly, "I'm sorry, mama." There was a long pause as her face brightened slightly with pride, and then he said something he didn't know he was going to say until the words came out. "I'm really sorry. It's all right. Go ahead and give me the lickin' if it will make you feel better." "Oh, Teddy," she cried disappointedly. "I don't believe in hitting children. But what am I going to DO with you?" Teddy, feeling really confused, walked back to the table, picked up the strap, silently handed it to his mother and bent over the table. Mrs. Wilcox was befuddled for a moment or two, then approached him from the left side, and gave his sweats a little tug down to just below his bottom. He shivered and began to wonder what he had done. His mom sorrowfully picked up the belt and doubled it over again and reluctantly began. This was not much of a licking as things went in the neighborhood. With very little force, like a girl trying to throw a football, Mom brought the strap down awkwardly.THWACK. Teddy straightened up and gasped. THWOP. The second one warmed his bottom, but he stayed in position. THWAP whispered the strap against his jockey shorts. Mom felt terrible having to whip her only son, and Teddy felt relieved that this was not so bad -- just a pretty awful embarrassment. But he remembered his Dad's words, and he did mean to make life easier for his mother. Teddy whined and sucked in his breath audibly with each lick of the well-meant but poorly executed strapping. When it was over, and not a mark on him, Teddy scooted to bed. "Remember, two o'clock tomorrow," Mom reminded him as he ran to his bedroom and collection of magazines he hoped would take his mind off the first whipping he had ever gotten. ------------------------------------------------------- At 1:45 the next day, Teddy thought seriously about going to the schoolyard for a touch football game and skipping out on this Mrs. Jurgens altogether. But common sense told him -- and this was a first, common sense getting the better of his mischievous little-boy nature -- that he would make Mom happy if he went. Besides, maybe it WOULD be a good idea to talk over problems with a stranger. He made his way down lonely street, checked the address and tapped on the door of the Victorian mansion. "Teddy Wilcox! I've been expecting you," said Rita Jurgens, a 40-something widow with reddish brown hair that hung in bangs over her green eyes and straight down to her neck. She had sharp but pleasant features and except for the hair color, she sort of reminded him of a "Betty Page" he had seen in a magazine. She led him through the ornate parlor, complete with grand piano with framed pictures of a variety of young men on top of it, to an office near the back of the house. Mrs. Jurgens sat primly on a straight-backed chair and motioned Teddy over to a soft couch that sank comfortably under his weight. He sat at the far corner of the sofa, looking sideways at his new counselor. He noticed several diplomas and certificates framed on the wall, and felt a little more at ease. For 30 minutes, she gently teased out of him how he felt about life -- school, home, playmates, his late father. She was so smooth and comforting, Teddy had no problem talking honestly. Toward the end of the session, confident that the relationship was on solid footing, asked, "Teddy, does your mom ever hit you?" Teddy was stunned. Was she asking about child abuse? "Isn't that kind of a personal question?" he stammered. "Well," she replied encouragingly, "it is, but counseling does have to deal with some personal things." "No, she doesn't," Teddy said firmly. "Except last night, just as you called, she was about to spank me -- but she couldn't do it. I actually made her." "You MADE her spank you?" a surprised Mrs. Jurgens asked, squirming a little bit closer to the edge of her chair. "Yeah," the boy exhaled, a little hard-put to explain his feelings. "Just a little bit of the belt. Didn't hurt much?" "Why did you ask her," Mrs. Jurgens asked. "Were you feeling guilty about your behavior?" "mmmhhh," he nodded shyly. "And I felt bad for making her angry. ... I never got spanked before, and she said she doesn't believe in hitting kids." "But you felt better afterwards?" Silence. "mmmhhh." "Do you think she SHOULD spank you, Teddy?" "NO! I mean why should she? God, that would be terrible! Even if she's my stepmother, she's still my MOTHER for God's sake. I'm 12 years old, don't YOU think that's too old for spankings?" Mrs. Jurgens smiled sweetly and leaned forward. "Actually, no, Teddy. It might be too old for a lot of kids, and maybe not too old for others. Everybody is different, you know." The pause was considerably longer now, as Teddy kept his head down, truly embarrassed and Mrs. Jurgens just kept looking at him, silently putting thoughts in his head. Finally, Teddy stammered: "I-I-I kknoowww I''vve bbbeenn sssome tttrroubbble, and I-I-I hhaattte all the yyyellling Mmmomm dddoes. But I don't want her to start spanking me now." "Well, how about if I do, Teddy?" she asked in a voice so soft and inviting that he felt a warming tingle inside his jeans. "I understand how you feel about your Mom. Maybe I could help out with your dilemma." She straightened up in perfect 19th century ladylike posture in her chair and waited for an answer. When none was forthcoming, and time running out on the session, Mrs. Jurgens changed her tone. "Come over here, young man!! And I mean NOW!" Teddy looked up wide-eyed and saw an entirely different Rita Jurgens. Her eyes were narrowed and blazing, her lips tight. She imperceptibly smoothed the skirt of her black business suit and with a slight wiggle of her upper torso, straightened out the shoulder pads. He tentatively arose and shuffled slowly to her. "This is part of my counseling protocol," she announced, even though Teddy had no idea what a protocol was. "You are going to get a spanking of the kind you have missed out on," she said icily, reaching down to her handbag and producing an angry-looking black plastic, flat-bottom hairbrush. "Whhhattt?!" Teddy exploded. Before he could protest further, Mrs. Jurgens had grabbed hold of his belt and pulled him to her right. Still grabbing him by the waist, she expertly undid the belt and unbuttoned his jeans. As he spluttered unintelligbly, Mrs. Jurgens unzipped the pants, turned him sideways and pulled down the same underpants that had felt the strap last night. Teddy's face turned bright red, and he involuntarily clenched his bottom cheeks. In a millisecond, he was face down across Mrs. Jurgens' skirt, the nub of his manhood-to-be pressed flat against the inside of her left thigh. This was to be no prissy little mommy-licking like last night, he soon found out. His unorthodox counselor raised the her right forearm straight up at a 90-degree angle so quickly it might have been mistaken for a Nazi salute and brought the brush down hard on Teddy's surprised backside. PPPOPPP!!! "AAAAAAYYHHH" he exploded in response to the pain and bucked away trying to escape the nasty fate that had befallen him. Mrs. Jurgens grabbed him tighter around the waist with her left hand and commanded: "Stay put! You are a naughty boy and you are gonna get a good spanking! Stay still!" The harsh tone of her words rang in his ears. Teddy clenched his teeth hard enough to turn his fillings into diamonds and closed his eyes. But still he saw stars when the second blow resounded through his brain. He heard it a fraction of a second before the SMACK landed on the opposite cheek. "OWWWWWW!!! he yelled, kicking his legs against the underpants that restricted him at the knees. "I told you, young man, that you are going to get a spanking. Now take it like a man or I will bend you over the sofa and get the cane! And don't think I won't." Teddy had taken some pretty hard licks playing football and banging around with his rough friends, so he was used to pain. But not like this, and not with such a tongue-lashing as accompaniment. Tears formed in his eyes and as the third application of the brush landed high on his hips, he began crying nonstop. "Waaah Waaaaah Waaah," he sobbed. Pretty soon, he stopped thinking at all, and, as Mrs. Jurgens had hoped, began concentrating on the pain of the long overdue paddling. WHAP SMACK SMACK WHAP WHOP PPPOPP WHACK CRACK CRACK WHAP SMACK SMACK. It went on and on, much more rapidly now, and Teddy was crying like a baby, his previously untouched bottom starting to glow red all over. "This SPANK is WHACK part PPPOPPP of your SMACK WHACK re-SMACK-cov-WHACK-er-CRACK-y. Do WHAP you WHOP under-SMACK-stand!!!"" "YYYYESSSS!!!" Teddy shrieked. "No more, No more," he begged, crying even harder, trying to keep his runny nose from mussing his punisher's skirt but, nevertheless, letting a long string of drool puddle on the carpet beneath him. She finished up her treatment with five solid burning imprints CRACK CRACK SMACK WHAP WHACK!!! He lay motionless crying when it was over, barely noticing that Mrs. Jurgens was rubbing his bare bottom in slow circles. When she helped him to his feet, he couldn't face her. He looked down and saw that his boyish nub had grown into a semi-erection. He covered up quickly and pulled his pants back up, still crying like a little boy after his first real licking. "Young man," Rita Jurgens winked. "I expect you here next Saturday at the same time ready to tell me how you behaved all week!" Teddy, trying to adjust his private parts into a semblance of order beneath his jeans while rubbing his blazing bottom, was at the doorway when he heard that. He slammed the door, but not before yelling proudly his newfound motto: "YESSSS MA'AM!!"