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Domestic Discipline

Brat Gets his Due

Peg Jones was busy trying to close a very lucretive home sale when the phone rang. “Damn, it would have to ring when the secretary’s out,” she said to herself. “Jones Realty, Mrs. Jones speaking. May I help you?” “Good afternoon, Mrs. Jones. This is Ms. Ames, the Principal at Springville Middle School. Would it be possible for you to come down to the school this afternoon.” “Has something happened to Mike?” “No, as far as I know, he’s fine and should be on the way home. I need to talk to you about him, though. It’s important.” “I’m tied up in the office right now. The secretary should be back in about 20 minutes. Could I meet you when she returns?” “If you would, please. I’ll see you then.” “What’s the matter with Mike and school?” she wondered. The call bothered her until her secretary returned and she noticed she had not completed the paperwork on the house. “Sarah, could you finish the contract on this. It needs to be ready for the first thing in the morning. I’ve got a meeting and will be gone for the rest of the afternoon. Thanks. See you in the morning.” The fifteen minute drive to the school did nothing to relieve the mind of the troubled parent. Since her husband died, three years earlier, she had taken over the running of their real estate office. That left less time for her twelve year old son than she liked. What’s more, she didn’t like him being a latch-key child, but the business provided a better living than she could make as an agent working for someone else. When she arrived at the school, she went right to the office. “Mrs. Jones? Come in, please. I’m Sheila Ames. How do you do? Would you like a cup of coffee?” “Please. What did you need to see me about?” “Mike is a very intelligent young boy, but he’s become somewhat of a problem. His school work is excellent, but he’s become a bully toward the other children. He terrorizes the younger ones, and when he can’t scare them, he fights with them. If something isn’t done soon, I’m afraid I don’t have a choice except to suspend or expel him.” “I didn’t know he was like that at school,” his mother said. “I thought he was just aggresive at me because I’m at work a lot when he gets home, and work takes up some of my time at home. I’ve been ignoring it or trying to compensate for my work, but I can see I need to take a stronger hand to stop this. His father would always handle him when he got out of line. Maybe I should deal with this the same way. You can be sure he will be taken care of.” “I wish I could have taken care of this myself,” Ms. Ames said. “I don’t like to call parents in, except as a last resort. The school board won’t let us discipline kids much more than keeping them after school for thirty minutes. Most of the kids don’t mind since they can do their homework then. And the parents often yell at us because the kids are late getting home. Sometimes I’d just like to give up.” As the school administrator was talking, an idea flashed into Mrs. Jones mind. “Sheila, I have an idea I’d like you to consider. You can’t discipline Mike here. I don’t like him being at home alone after school and sometimes evenings and Saturdays. How would you like to have a second job? I would like you to become Mike’s governess. I couldn’t pay you much, but if you were willing, you could move into our house. It’s much more than we need. I would know Mike was alright, and you would have a chance to help take care of the problem he’s causing.” Sheila thought about it for a moment. The rent savings alone would be enough, she thought. “I think we might try it on a trial basis,” she said. “We’ll do it as long as you would like, Sheila. If it doesn’t work out, just tell me. I’m grateful that your willing. We can start tonight, if you’d like.” “Fine. It’s time for me to leave for the day anyway.” Sheila followed Mrs. Jones home. When they opened the door to the house, Mike was nowhere to be seen. Peg headed for her bedroom to change and there was Mike, just closing her jewelry box, with a ten dollar bill in his hand. “JUST WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING, YOUNG MAN? What’s the big idea taking money from my room just like a common thief? I’ve been too easy on you. Ms. Ames tells me you’ve been acting up in school too.” Mike looked up to the bedroom door and realized that his principal had walked in. “I’m sorry, mom. I was gonna tell you.” “Your not as sorry as your going to be, young man.” Mrs. Jones grabbed a hairbrush off of her dresser. Sitting down on the bed, Peg pulled Mike toward her. “Things are going to change around here starting now.” With that, she started to loosen his belt. “Please don’t, mom. Not with Ms. Ames here.” “Why not? Ms. Ames is your new governess. She’s not only gonna see your behind getting a spanking, if need be, she has my permission to do the exact same thing I’m doing now.” Tugging the young boys pants and shorts to his knees, she pulled him across her lap. Raising the hairbrush, she brought it crisply across the left buttock just above the thigh. SMACK. “OWWWW!!!” “Do I (SMACK) make (SMACK) myself (SMACK) clear (SMACK)?” “Yes, mom,” the boy stammered out between sobs and howls. SMACK, SMACK, SMACK. The brush beat a steady tatoo of spanks alternating between left and right side. The room was a constant pattern of noise, shifting between the sound of wood striking flesh and the young boy’s blubbering sobs and howls of pain. After what seemed like an eternity, the spanking ended. Mrs. Jones had not missed one spot of her son’s bottom, which now glowed as red as a summer sunset from hip to hip and top to bottom. “If I ever find you’ve taken anything from my room without my permission again, I’ll take the brush to you every day for a week. Understand me?” “Yes, mommy,” the boy blubbered. “Now, you get your nose into that corner. Leave your pants down until I tell you. That spanking was for taking money out of the jewelry box. Ms. Ames will deal with your school behavior before you go to bed tonight.”

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