The P.E. Club - Part 4

“Ricky! What have you been up to?!” Mrs Livesey exclaimed when she saw the state Ricky was in, “You knew you had an important visitor… I told you about Robert… how he might help you join the P.E. Club… and yet look at you! What on earth is he going to think?”

I have to admit Ricky did look remarkably disheveled. His school shoes were scuffed. One sock was at half-mast, the other pushed all the way down to his ankle. Ricky’s knees looked as if he’d been shuffling about in muddy grass and his legs were filthy. The grass stains extended to his school shorts and blazer. It will be no surprise to learn how his shirt was completely untucked from his trousers and that his school tie was almost totally undone. His school cap was nowhere to be seen.

Mrs Livesey was appalled and, while I stood to one side, carried on in much the same way my own mother would have done under similar circumstances. Ricky was in a mess and by the look on his face he knew he was in serious trouble. He kept glancing nervously between me and his mum.

As usual in these situations it was a waste of time trying to find out how Ricky managed to get into such a state. The damage had been done and Ricky knew there was a price to pay.

“Look how smart Robert is,” Mrs Livesey said as she pressed a hand on top of Ricky’s head, directing it towards me. “That’s a boy who takes pride in his appearance… look… Robert hasn’t got grass stains on his legs, has he, Ricky?”

“No, mum…” Ricky replied. There was a quizzical look on his face as though something had just dawned on him.

“Robert’s clothes are nice and clean… aren’t they, Ricky?”

“Yes, mum... “ Ricky looked earnestly at his mother. “Mum… why’s he wearing short trousers?”

“Because it’s part of the uniform he’s been given to wear by the P.E. Club,” mum answered, “... and he’s proud to wear short trousers, unlike some little boys I could mention… besides, it’s an honour for him to wear them… isn’t it, Robert?”

“Of course it is, Ricky,” I said smiling. What else could I say? I could hardly tell Mrs Livesey I felt ridiculous standing in her kitchen in the shortest pair of short trousers it had ever been my misfortune to wear.

Despite Ricky’s current situation he wasn’t too afraid to tell us how he couldn’t wait to get some long trousers and that some of his classmates were already in longs… and how he never, ever wanted to wear short trousers again once mum had bought him some longs.

Mrs Livesey looked at me and sighed, “This is just what I was telling you about…”

I looked at Ricky and spoke, “I don’t think mum will be in any hurry to buy you a pair of long trousers, especially when you come home in the state you are now. Mum might decide to keep you in short trousers… my mum made sure I stayed in short trousers until I was much older than you are now. Besides, when you join the P.E. Club you’ll find that all the boys wear short trousers. When you get a bit older, Ricky, you’ll understand…”

“I think it’s about time we got you out of these clothes, Ricky,” Mrs Livesey decided, “… and then we’ll give you a strip wash here in the kitchen…”

“MUM!!” Ricky was outraged.

“I wouldn’t make too much of a fuss young man, because when we’ve got you nice and clean, Robert is going to take you over his knees for a thorough bare bottom spanking… aren’t you Robert?”

To say I was astonished by Mrs Livesey’s words would be an understatement and to be perfectly honest I didn’t believe it was my place to administer Ricky’s spanking, bare bottom or not. But before I could reply, Ricky had a few words to say.

“Not a spanking… please, mum… not in the kitchen… please, mum,”

Mrs Livesey had already started to undress Ricky before he surprised us both by what he said next.

Ricky looked at me coyly and then spoke: “Mum… please not Robert… don’t let Robert spank me…” Mrs Livesey was unbuttoning Ricky’s school shirt, but paused and asked her son what he meant. “Will you spank me instead, mum?”

“Whatever for?” she asked.

Ricky didn’t answer his mum’s question, but repeated himself: “Please, mum… will you spank me?”

Mrs Livesey looked at me quizzically. I shrugged as much to say that I didn’t understand Ricky either. Did he think a spanking from me would be more painful than one from his mum, I thought? Hardly, as I was sure Mrs Livesey would have had far more spanking experience than me. Or maybe Ricky was simply embarrassed by the thought of being spanked by an older boy… who knows? But I wonder if Ricky realised I would be staying in the kitchen whatever happened.

I sat and watched as Mrs Livesey methodically undressed Ricky. Off came his shoes, off came his socks, down came Ricky’s short school trousers, off came his shirt… until Ricky was left standing in his little white underpants. Mrs Livesey moved to pull down her son’s underpants at which Ricky jerked back and grabbed hold of the elastic waistband of the underpants.

“NO!! Please, mum… not… not in front of Robert…” he pleaded and it became apparent that Ricky didn’t want to be seen undressed in front of an older boy.

“Take your hands away, Ricky!” Mrs Livesey snapped. “I don’t think Robert’s going to mind if he sees you with no clothes on… I’m sure he sees lots of bare boys at the P.E. Club,” Mrs Livesey added as she slipped her fingers inside the waistband of Ricky’s underpants. She’d clearly had plenty of practice at this manoeuvre and I watched as she slid her hands around and down over Ricky’s bottom before sweeping her hands back round to his front. Ricky’s bottom was now bare and the front of his underpants had been pulled low enough for me to see the base of his bald penis.

“Stand still, Ricky and let me take your underpants off,” Mrs Livesey said as her son performed a nervous dance in anticipation of of his baring.

I was surprised at Ricky’s modesty. Considering what I’d seen him getting up to in his school’s security video, I would have thought the little matter of being stripped nude in the kitchen wouldn’t have bothered him that much. Or maybe it was the thought of the spanking he was going to get after mum had given him a strip wash.

Ricky’s underpants came down and mum soon had them added to the pile of his school clothes. It was predicable to see Ricky cup his hands between his legs and for the moment Mrs Livesey ignored this as she pulled him towards the sink.

“Robert, I wonder if you could give me some assistance?” Mrs Livesey asked me.

“Certainly…” I replied as I crossed the kitchen.

“Would you grip Ricky’s arms and hold them above his head while I wash his legs?”

Needless to say Ricky struggled, wriggling this way and that until mum gave him a sharp smack on his left thigh.

“Don’t make it worse for yourself, Ricky… let mum clean you up,” I advised him as I took hold of his wrists and pulled his arms up high. The usual pleadings of it not being fair were ignored by his mum and I told him that he shouldn’t have got into such a mess in the first place. Mrs Livesey made short work of Ricky’s strip wash. She gave me a towel and told me to dry Ricky. I’d noticed a change in her tone of voice when she addressed me and what she said next took me by surprise:

“... and when you’ve finished doing that you can give Ricky a good spanking on his bare bottom.”

However much I might have enjoyed the thought of taking Ricky over my lap for a spanking I felt that as I was wearing short trousers it was not appropriate for me to do so. I protested that it wasn’t my place to spank Ricky, but Mrs Livesey wouldn’t hear of it.

“You will be Ricky’s supervisor at the P.E. Club. It doesn’t seem unreasonable to ask you to demonstrate to me here and now exactly how you will exert your authority when he misbehaves.” She paused before adding firmly, “… and if I don’t hear Ricky howling and begging to be spared after you’ve been spanking him for five minutes, I will personally show how that is done by giving a practical lesson for you by using your own bare bottom. Do I make myself clear, Robert?”

I told Mrs Livesey that she had made herself perfectly clear and as I sat on one the the kitchen stools, Ricky, looking apprehensive, was made to stand by my right hand side. He rubbed his bottom in nervous anticipation of the spanking he was about to receive. I patted my lap and helped to position Ricky as he leant forwards over my bare thighs.

Mrs Livesey set the kitchen timer and nodded for me to start. I had five minutes to demonstrate my prowess at spanking. If anything I was more nervous than Ricky as I commenced his spanking. His mother watched me with a critical eye as I smacked her son’s bare bottom, but there was no sound from Ricky. Not a peep. It didn’t seem to make any difference how hard I tried spanking him, Ricky stayed resolutely silent.

“Four minutes left…” Mrs Livesey announced.

I spanked Ricky harder. I tried concentrating all my efforts on one spot. I spanked Ricky on his sweet ‘sit-spots’, but still there was not a peep from Ricky.

“Three minutes left…” Mrs Livesey informed me coldly.

Ricky was wriggling and his legs made a series of scissor movements, so I knew my spanking must have been having some effect. At one point Ricky’s right arm shot up as if to protect his bottom. I grabbed the wrist and held it tight against Ricky’s back. I continued to spank Ricky as hard as I was able, but there was still no noise other than the steady smack, smack, smack as my hand made contact with Ricky’ bare bottom.

“Two minutes to go…”

Hearing Mrs Livesey’s voice made me redouble my efforts. Surely Ricky should be yelling his head off by now, I thought. He was wriggling and scissoring his legs even more as my hand smacked the tender red flesh of his bottom… but that didn’t count. As long as Ricky remained silent, I was due for a demonstration from Mrs Livesey of how to make a boy howl, beg and plead using my bottom.

By this time and with this thought uppermost on my mind I was sweating more with fear than the exertion of spanking Ricky.

“One minute left,” said Mrs Livesey.

Still no noise apart from the steady slap of my hand on the reddening bottom of the naked wriggling Ricky.

“Thirty seconds left…”

I was frantic. I couldn’t believe that any bare-bottomed boy could hold out during such a spanking and not yell out. It was only then the penny really dropped. Up to that point I thought that it was simply a battle of wills, but now I realised Ricky was holding out so that he could be rewarded by watching while I had a spanking over his mother’s lap. A spanking she had guaranteed would make me howl and beg of mercy!

No wonder Ricky had kept silent…

“BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!”

The kitchen timer sounded and my sore hand came to rest on Ricky’s hot bottom cheeks. I made Ricky stay in position over my lap while I got my breath back in the hope Ricky might make a noise loud enough to exempt me from his mother’s threat to give me a spanking.

A minute passed and it became clear what fate awaited me in Mrs Livesey’s kitchen. Apart from taking a few deep breaths and trying to relieve his scorching bottom by bucking and twisting his hips, Ricky remained stoically silent. I looked up at Mrs Livesey and she signaled me to stand up and face her.

Released from my grip, Ricky jumped up and immediately grabbed hold of his bottom with both hands then commenced a most energetic post-spanking dance around the kitchen. He was no longer at all concerned about his nudity and I couldn’t help but watch as his thighs worked like pistons causing his boys-bits to flap about and slap against his legs.

Ricky was allowed a few minutes to finish his dance before Mrs Livesey told him to stand still and clasp his hands behind his head for his corner-time. He did as he was told and I saw that his eyes were damp and glistening with tears. I wondered how he’d managed to keep from yelling during the spanking I’d given him, but before facing the wall Ricky turned and spoke:

“Please, mum… can I watch… to see how it’s done… a proper spanking, I mean…”

I very nearly grabbed hold of Ricky once more for another spanking. The cheek!! It was obvious what he’d been up to and now he wanted to watch me getting spanked!

Mrs Livesey thought about it for a moment. Ricky must have convinced her that my spanking was not of a standard sufficient for proper discipline as her reply made it clear.

“Yes… Yes, Ricky… you may stand and watch while I give Robert a spanking. It’s quite obvious he needs a lesson in how to administer an effective spanking to a boy’s bare bottom… but be sure to keep your hands at the back of your head, Ricky.”

Now it was my turn to be undressed by Mrs Livesey.

Ricky’s mum was methodical in her work as she first came and stood behind me, reached up to the collar of my jacket and pulled it downwards so that my arms slipped out. Mrs Livesey came back round to face me, handed me my jacket and told me to take it and hang it in the hall. I did as I was told and passed by Ricky who smirked and poked his tongue out at me.

“Ricky!! Do that once more and you’ll be over my knee for a dose of my hairbrush,” his mum warned him.

My heart beat faster as I hung up my jacket and returned to the kitchen to stand in front of Mr Livesey once more. This time she reached up to removed my tie and unbuttoned my shirt and it became clear to me that I was to be completely undressed for my spanking, fully nude, just like Ricky.

Leaving my shirt unbuttoned and open, Mrs Livesey pulled up a chair and sat down. She reached forward and pushed her hands into the waistband of my short trousers. Pulling me forward, she started to tell me how disappointed she was with me; how she’d expected a boy of my age to take his responsibilities more seriously… and so it went on. Every so often I would apologise, desperately ashamed and embarrassed to be standing in the middle of her kitchen while she slowly undressed me.

My little short trousers were unzipped and pulled open. I was conscious of Ricky’ eyes as he watched every step of my disrobing. I felt Mrs Livesey’s fingers as they were pushed up the legs of my ultra brief shorts.

“I hope you are thoroughly ashamed of yourself, Robert.”

“Yes, Mrs Livesey,” I mumbled.

She tugged my short trousers, pulling them down over my bottom and they tumbled to my feet.

“Hold up your shirt, Robert… I was so disappointed in you… I really would have expected you to be able to give Ricky such thorough spanking that would have made him beg you to stop… hold your shirt right up, Robert…”

Mrs Livesey brought her fingers up to the waistband of my white schoolboy underpants and I could feel beads of perspiration on my forehead. I knew what was next.

I’ve no doubt that Mrs Livesey had gained a great deal of experience in removing a boy’s underpants over the years. She certainly knew how to deal with the little school regulation underpants that were part of my P.E. Club uniform. Keeping up her scolding of me, she pushed her fingers into the elastic waistband and slowly eased it downwards.

“Honestly, Robert, I’d have thought a boy of your age wouldn’t have had any trouble spanking Ricky…”

“I’m sorry, Mrs Livesey,” I apologised as I saw Ricky lean forwards, keen not to miss anything.

“Well, it just wasn’t good enough… was it, Robert?”

“No, Mrs Livesey…”

“When I spank a boy I expect him to make a great deal of noise… I expect him to beg me to stop… I expect him to be bawling… sobbing… crying his eyes out… don’t I, Ricky?”

“Yes, mum…” Ricky replied and by the tone of his voice he was eager to watch his mum in action on my bottom… my bare bottom.

Mrs Livesey had pulled the waistband of my underpants down to the base of my penis… far enough to see that I had no pubic hair and was as bald as Ricky. She made no comment, but merely pushed her hands around the waistband until her fingers were touching the bare flesh of my bottom. Mrs Livesey eased my underpants back down over my bottom and then slid her hands back to my hips and pulled the now stretched elastic waistband further down. My penis was now partially uncovered.

“You see, Robert,” Mrs Livesey continued as if pulling down the underpants of a nineteen year old boy was an everyday event of no consequence, “You see when a boy is spanked, he should be aware of nothing other than his blazing bottom…”

“Yes, Mrs Livesey,” I replied getting more and more anxious by the second. Already I could feel my stomach churning in anticipation of my forthcoming spanking… to say nothing of the imminent lowering of my underpants.

“... that is why I often make use of my hairbrush.”

I gulped. I think Ricky might have been shocked to hear that too.

“... a boy will then promise to be good, promise to do his homework, promise to do his chores properly… promise anything in fact for the spanking to stop…”

I gulped again: “Yes, Mrs Livesey.

“Frankly I’m surprised you didn’t ask to borrow my hairbrush when you spanked Ricky…”

“I’m sorry, Mrs Livesey…”

“After all, it was obvious you weren’t able to achieve the desired result with your bare hand after the first minute…”

“I’m really sorry, Mrs Livesey.”

At that precise moment that back door opened and with a loud “Coo-ee!” one of Mrs Livesey’s neighbours entered the kitchen.

“Oh! Am I interrupting anything?” she asked when she saw Ricky standing in the kitchen nude and with his hands clasped behind his head. She must also of course have seen me, a bundle of nerves, standing in front of Mrs Livesey.

“No… not all all, Jill,” Mrs Livesey answered just as if she was in the middle of some tedious household chore, “Come in and take a pew…”

Calmly, without any fuss and without any allowance made for arrival of the unexpected visitor, Mrs Livesey drew my underpants down to my knees. My penis, slightly engorged I’m ashamed to say, once released from the confines of my tight schoolboy underpants, sprung outwards and wobbled in front of her before coming to rest.

“Cor!!” Ricky exclaimed when he saw the result of his mother’s action.

Mrs Livesey looked directly at my now fully exposed genitals. “I grew up with two brothers,” she said, “... and both of them had abundant pubic hair by your age, Robert… Yet I see you have none.”

Ricky couldn’t resist a further exclamation when he realised I was as bald as he was. He was about to say something more when the neighbour spoke.

“I’d keep quiet if I were you, Ricky… By the looks of things you’ve earned one spanking already today.”

I was then obliged to tell Mrs Livesey in front of her neighbour and Ricky, that Doc considered pubic hair on boys to be unhealthy as well as unnecessary and therefore to set an example I had agreed to keep myself smooth and hairless. I can’t tell you how embarrassed I was at that point in the proceedings. Mrs Livesey was having no trouble in cutting me down to size and I felt as if I were not much older than Ricky.

Mrs Livesey left me standing in the middle of the kitchen holding my shirt right up to my shoulders and with my underpants clinging to my knees. My extremely brief short trousers were still in a puddle at my feet.

“Shall I put the kettle on, Jill?” Mrs Livesey asked her neighbour as she crossed the kitchen.

“What a good idea, Helen… are you going to introduce me to this young man?” Jill said as if finding an almost naked teenager in her friend’s kitchen was a perfectly normal occurrence.

“Certainly, Jill. This is Robert… I think I mentioned him to you the other day. He’s the boy who helps run the PE Club that Ricky will be joining to help control that little problem of his we talked about at our coffee morning last week…”

“Oh yes, that little problem… One or two other boys in need of the same treatment were mentioned as I recall… and my Ralph’s no saint either, I can assure you,” Jill said with a smile.

“Ralph’s fourteen now isn’t he?” Mrs Livesey asked her neighbour.

“Yes, but he’s a young fourteen… entre nous, he’s what you might call a late bloomer… a very late bloomer. Poor Ralph’s dreadfully embarrassed about it… even covers his front bits if I catch him when he’s undressed… all a bit silly really, because… well, boys tend to forget their mums have seen everything anyway, so there’s no need to hide their boy things from us just because they’re growing up,” Jill informed us.

“... and you say he’s already… er, doing that thing we were talking about at the coffee morning?” Mrs Livesey said hesitantly, presumably not wanting to talk too openly about masturbation in front of her son, Ricky.

But Jill knew exactly what Mrs Livesey meant: “Oh yes, Helen… although it’s only recently I’ve seen any evidence… just a few spots.”

I began to feel sorry for Ralph having such personal and private matters talked about so freely and with such little concern by his mother. His boy-secrets were now completely out in the open; the subject of his late pubescence common knowledge among others… as well as his habit, that thing boys do, all the mothers were talking about over coffee.

Mrs Livesey turned to her son:” Ricky, if I find out that you’ve been telling anyone else what Aunty Jill has just said about Ralph I’ll give you such a spanking with my hairbrush that you won’t be able to sit down for a week… Do I make myself clear?”

Ricky understood alright. He just had to remember to be very careful how he used this new found knowledge. “Yes, mum… I won’t say a thing…” he replied keeping a straight face.

“I wonder, Jill… while I make the tea… if you wouldn’t mind helping Robert off with the rest of his clothes. He’s been holding up his shirt for a while and his arms must be aching quite a bit now.”

What Mrs Livesey said was true, but I wasn’t sure if the embarrassment of having her neighbour Jill removing the rest of my clothing wasn’t too high a price to pay for the comfort of being able to straighten my arms.

Jill turned out to be just as adept at undressing a boy as Mrs Livesey. All the while she chatted to her friend as she eased my shirt off and then slipped my underpants further down my legs.

“What about his sandals, Helen?” Jill asked.

“He can keep those on for now,” came the reply.

I lifted up each foot in turn so that Jill could remove my short trousers and underpants and stood nude, bar ankle socks and sandals. If anything having these left on made me feel more naked than ever; the socks and sandals on my feet simply drew attention to the lack of any other clothing on my otherwise bare body.

“My, but these short trousers of yours are very short, Robert,” Jill said as she held them up in front of her and examined them, “Was that your choice, to have them so short?”

“No… er, no they’re part of my visiting uniform… for when I’m representing the PE Club,” I replied rather softly as I was deeply embarrassed by the situation in which I’d found myself.

“Well, it’s a brave boy who wears these little shorts… wouldn’t you agree, Helen?”

Mrs Livsesy smiled and said that in her opinion short trousers for boys should always be tailored to allow lots of fresh air to circulate around the boy’s thighs… whatever his age.

“Robert must get lots of fresh air wearing these… there’s hardly any leg to them at all.” Jill turned to me again: “Is that why you were wearing these little schoolboy underpants? They’re the same type as the underpants I buy for Ralph.”

I wondered if my ordeal could get any more embarrassing as I explained why I was wearing a pair of underpants designed to be worn by a fourteen year old schoolboy.

“... and they’re smarter too,” I managed to croak after I explained that any other underwear would be likely to be seen as the legs of my short trousers were, as Jill had pointed out, so very short.

Jill made use of the apron she was wearing to collect and carry my clothes.

“What would you like me to do with Robert’s clothes, Helen?” she asked.

“Oh, put them through on the hall table. Robert can collect them later…”

Those words sounded rather ominous and it looked as if I was to forfeit my clothes for some time, or at least until Mrs Livesey saw fit to allow me to get dressed again. I stood in the kitchen like a nervous, naughty boy about to be spanked. I was now more than ever certain Mrs Livesey was about to show me how a ‘proper’ spanking should be administered.

Jill came back into the kitchen: “Is there anything else for me to do, Helen?” she asked.

“Yes, would you be an angel and fetch my hairbrush… Ricky will show you where it’s kept…”

Ricky couldn’t help himself and whooped with delight at the prospect of seeing me spanked with his mother’s hairbrush. Jill took Ricky by the hand and he led her off to find the hairbrush… well, to be precise, Ricky positively dragged Jill from the room in his eagerness to show her where his mum kept the hairbrush.

“Hands clasped behind your head now, Robert,” Mrs Livesey ordered as Jill and Ricky left the kitchen.

My head was in a whirl. I hadn’t expected any of this to happen. It was embarrassing enough to dress in the PE Club uniform to come and visit Mrs Livesey and to meet with Ricky. I thought that I’d have a chat over a cup of tea and maybe tell Ricky something about the club. But here I was standing practically nude in Mrs Livesey’s kitchen waiting to be spanked by her with a hairbrush while Jill, a neighbour, and Ricky watched. Not only that, but I was to be spanked until I was bawling and pleading to be spared, while I was no doubt blubbing as tears and snot ran down my face. Yes, I knew only too well what the effects of a well-aimed hairbrush could be on a boy’s defenceless bare bottom. The purpose of this was to demonstrate what Mrs Livesey considered to be a ‘proper’ spanking… the type of spanking I’d failed to give her son Ricky.