The Fourth Letter to David

Dearest David,

It’s been a few weeks since I last wrote to you. I expect you’ve been hoping that I’d forgotten all about what happened the day Suzy and I saw you being punished by your mother. Well I know for a fact that you’ve been on tenterhooks, David, waiting to see whether the postman had brought you another letter, a letter from me to remind you of what happened. Your mother told me how every morning before you set off for school, you would wait nervously, straining to hear the footfall of the postman outside and how pale you went when letters tumbled through the letterbox. I can only imagine how you must be trembling as you read this, but as I explained at the outset these letters are intended to be a record of what happened as well as a reminder of what to expect when you are naughty.

Suzy couldn’t stop talking about how your feet got tangled up in your underpants and how you fell backwards onto the floor that afternoon. You know what happened next, don’t you David… something that Suzy tells me she will never, ever forget. I believe some boys call what happened ‘losing it’. Well there’s no doubt you ‘lost it’ completely and ejaculated right there in front of your mother, Suzy and me. Do you know what went through my mind as we watched you spray ejaculate all over yourself, David? It was that I couldn’t help but wonder why there was such a copious amount of fluid. It seemed as though that penis of yours would never stop spurting. So Suzy and I spoke to a friend of mine and we told her precisely what had happened. My friend, a nurse, was very interested in our account and she explained that when a boy has not ‘relieved’ himself for a while, the build up of ejaculate can be quite considerable. My curiosity, and Suzy’s, was aroused and we wondered why a boy of sixteen like you, David, would allow himself to get into such a state. Yes, you see although Suzy is two years younger than you, she is much more mature than you, David and quite old enough to know all about what boys get up to, so you can be sure she knows exactly what I know.

I expect you are reading this and wondering where all this is leading… although I’m sure you already know the answer. It only took a little chat with your mother for me to find out that you have been forbidden to masturbate. Isn’t that the fact of the matter, David? And isn’t that why you made such a complete spectacle of yourself when you shot such a lot of ejaculate over yourself that afternoon in front of us all?

Suzy, who was with me when I talked to your mother, wanted to know more about why you had been told you were not to masturbate, but unfortunately we didn’t have the time as the café was very busy. Although the waitress said we could stay and chat for as long as we liked, we felt it was only fair to give up our table. As we left the ladies at the table next to us offered a few words of encouragement to your mother. They asked how old you were, David and said what a very good idea it was to stop you playing with your penis and that it would teach you self discipline. One day, they said, you’d be grateful to your mother for looking after your moral welfare. I think that was nice of them, don’t you?

I’ve strayed a little from the subject in hand, that is to say what happened on the afternoon I called on your mother only to find that you were due to be punished. However, it is my intention to return at some point to the matters raised in the preceding paragraphs.

If you would care to consult my last letter you will note that it finished at the point at which you were left sprawled out on your mother’s front room carpet and covered with your own boy’s sperm. I’m sure you remember how Suzy squealed when she saw what you were doing and told you what a disgusting little boy you were. I wonder what it felt like for you to be told off by a girl of fourteen? You were hardly in a position to argue, knowing that to do so would only risk making your punishment that much worse. That being the case you were forced to listen in silence as Suzy ticked you off for being such a naughty boy.

Do you remember what happened next, David? I rather fancy you do, because your mother announced that she would not have you over her lap for a spanking given the state you were in… not until you’d been cleaned up. That was when Suzy volunteered to help.

“If you’re absolutely sure, Suzy,” I said and a towel and damp flannel were fetched from the kitchen.

How you complained and grumbled, David when Suzy told you to stand up so that she could set about cleaning the boy’s sperm from your body. You will recall that your school vest was still scrunched up about your armpits and your little white schoolboy underpants were still tangled around your ankles. Suzy almost lost patience with you because you were making such a fuss and she accused you of deliberately dragging things out... correctly in my view. I thought for a moment your mother was about to say something to you as well, but she was so clearly impressed at the way Suzy had you under control that she kept quiet and let Suzy get on with it.

Well you eventually managed to stand up straight and we all saw the sticky mess you’d made as it began to slither down over your chest, arms and legs. Suzy used a towel to clean up your ejaculate and once she’d wiped your arms clean she made you put your hands on your head like the naughty little schoolboy you were.

I must say how impressed both your mother and I were as we watched Suzy clean you up of every last drop of your mess. Suzy does do some babysitting and while she wiped you down, she told us how one or two of the boys she sits for have had similar ‘accidents’ when she was bathing them.

Now then, David, what happened after Suzy got you cleaned up? Well it was time for mummy to take you over her knee for a spanking, wasn’t it? But I’m sure you remember, don’t you? In fact I’m inclined to wonder if you are ever likely to forget!

I’d noticed the old piano stool that had been placed against one of the walls of the front-room, but I’d not understood its significance and why you kept glancing in its direction. Imagine my surprise when it became clear that Suzy knew exactly the purpose to which it was used. Suzy didn’t need to be asked twice by your mother to help her move it into the middle of the room. I was still in the dark when Suzy politely told your mother that she would fetch another towel, ‘in case David has another accident’. Then it became clear when your mother sat down on the stool and Suzy laid a fresh towel over her lap, that you were to be bent over mummy’s lap for a spanking. Before this could happen you had to shuffle across the room from where you’d been standing, as those ridiculous junior schoolboy underpants were still tangled up around your ankles. Your mother looked very serious as she watched you, but Suzy and I couldn’t help but smile and giggle as you waddled over to your mummy taking tiny steps to walk the few feet. Once again we were treated to the comical sight of your penis as it waggled and jiggled about, bouncing off your testicles, until you reached the side of your mother.

I was delighted when Suzy stepped up and stood in front of your mother. Suzy told her how you had been a very naughty little boy and said that you, David, should also be punished for losing control and squirting boy-stuff all over himself. He should be made to realise that ejaculating like that was not ‘clever’ or ‘grown-up’, it was childish and very silly. That sort of behaviour just made work for others.

It was easy to see from the expression on your face that the way Suzy spoke and treated you, just as if you were a little boy, was having the desired effect and when it was time to lean forward over mummy’s lap, I could swear you were already on the verge of tears.

The piano stool was obviously chosen because to position your bottom correctly meant that you were forced up onto tiptoes and had to brace yourself with the palms of your hands flat on the carpet. Mummy made sure you were held securely by leaning forward slightly and wrapping her arm around your middle so that when the spanking started no amount of wriggling would dodge the onslaught of smacks.

Suzy stayed standing in front of you and your mother, getting a ringside view of your spanking, David. Whatever you thought of this arrangement probably didn’t last very long, since you were soon begging and pleading for mummy to stop the spanking. When your legs started kicking and much to everyone’s amusement, your little white schoolboy underpants flew off your feet and were launched across the room. It was almost as if you were glad to be rid of them, although I don’t think you even knew it had happened, because at that point Suzy turned to me: “Mummy, David’s crying and he’s only had a few spanks…”

Suzy bent down to look at your face: “Mummy, David’s nose is running… should I wipe it for him?”

“No, dear… better leave it until David’s mummy has finished his spanking,” I said.

Then Suzy looked up at me again and above all the noise you were making, said: “What a cry-baby… Isn’t David just a big cry-baby, mummy?”

I had to agree with Suzy, because I find it hard to believe any self-respecting sixteen year old boy would make such a noise and start crying during a hand-spanking from his mummy.

Then your mummy gave you another surprise, didn’t she, David?

“Would you like to give David’s bottom some smack’s, Suzy,” she asked my daughter.

Suzy turned to me, her eyes wide with excitement, “Can I mummy? Please mummy...”

“Of course you can, dear… to make up for all that boy-mess he made and you cleaned up.”

So Suzy gave you some hand-spanks on your bare bottom, David, but after a while and despite your wriggling, mummy had something to say:

“Oh, that’s no good…” she said, “Suzy, it’s not your fault, but your spanks simply aren’t getting through to David. You’re going to need some assistance from my little helper if David is going to feel the benefit of your spanks… I think it’s time David took us up to his bedroom and showed us what’s hanging behind his bedroom door…”

You were quite put out by this, David and started making an awful fuss:

“No, mummy! Please… please don’t…” You begged and pleaded so much that I was curious to know what it was you were so ashamed of, but mummy wasn’t listening and simply ordered you up from her lap. Your bottom was quite red after mummy’s spanking, but you weren’t allowed to rub it, were you? No, you were told to put your hands straight back behind your head.

I must say it was quite a sight to see you leading the way upstairs to your bedroom, David. You were almost completely bare-nude, weren’t you? Just your white school vest left on after you’d kicked off your schoolboy underpants during your spanking. But that vest didn’t cover much, did it, David, because it was still rucked up, right up under your armpits. You must have felt very nervous as you walked out into the hallway, no doubt wondering if anyone could see you through the hall window or the front door. Then it was upstairs and along the landing to your bedroom.

I’d not been inside your bedroom before, David, and I have to say it was quite a surprise. Could this be David’s bedroom, I thought. David is sixteen, I told myself, but this looks like the bedroom of… of… why, of course, it’s what I was saying in my first letter to you, David and no wonder, because this looked just like the bedroom of a twelve year old! There on the shelves were the toys of a little boy; toy cars and toy soldiers; cap guns and bows and arrows. I looked down at your little bed and the candlewick bedspread. Then I turned around to see what it was that you were so ashamed of hanging on the back of your bedroom door.

“Oh, mummy!” Suzy said excitedly, “Mummy… it’s a strap!! A strap for naughty boys…”

I didn’t think you could possibly blush any more redder than you already were… but you managed it, David and when your mummy ordered you to take the strap from its hook and show it to Suzy and me, I thought you would faint from embarrassment. And why was that? It was because of what was printed on the leather strap, wasn’t it?

“Oh, mummy! Look there’s something written on the strap!” Suzy said breathlessly as we both examined the short leather discipline strap.

“Perhaps David would like to tell us what is says on the strap,” your mother said from the doorway.

You did look very sheepish, David, but you were able to tell us what what printed on the leather. No doubt as the strap was kept hanging on your bedroom door, it was easy for you to memorise the words.

“It says ‘David’s discipline strap’...”

“Is that all?” your mummy asked.

“No, mummy… on the other side it says ‘For use on David’s BARE bottom’.”

Sure enough when Suzy turned over the supple leather strap there, imprinted on the leather, were the words that gave instructions for the use of the strap.

“You better give the discipline strap back to David,” I said to Suzy, “He can carry it back downstairs and his mummy can show you how to use it.”

I’m going to pause at this point as I’m sure it will take another full letter to do justice to what happened when we all returned to the front-room.

Affectionately yours,

Stephanie & Suzy



[Earlier 'Letters to David' are available via The Story Index]