Message-ID: <17166eli$9811130530@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/17166.txt> From: marmot <marmot6@hotmail.com> Subject: Story: The Long Ride (F/b otk some sex) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Original-Message-ID: <364B3B3C.96D3C0F5@hotmail.com> This story contains sexually explicit language and descriptions, and is not intended for minors. If you are a minor, read something else and have a good day. Also, the author does not intend this story to condone child abuse in any form. ---------- The Long Ride "Mommy, are we there yet?" "No, and don't ask again," came the somewhat irritable reply. The station wagon wound another of those exciting hairpin turns. At least 9 year old Bobby Wilkins found them exciting. He was excited about everything today. Going to a new place to live, in a new state even, and up in the mountains, even! "Mommy, do you think we'll see any deer?" "Not in the daytime, and would you please be quiet!" Mommy didn't like hairpin turns, and didn't seem to like much else today. Bobby looked up at the most beautifulest woman in the world. Today those warm brown eyes, usually so comforting, looked worried. The corners of her mouth turned downward. "Mommy, will you be happy when we get there?" "Yes, but you won't be happy for a long time if you say another word." She said that in the matter-of-fact tone that Bobby knew from experience meant he would probably be spanked if he said anything else. He didn't want that at all; his bottom was still sore from this morning. He would be quiet. "Mommy, I have to go potty." There was no answer, of course, because Bobby didn't say it aloud. instead, he crossed his legs and tried to think of something else. He looked out the window, hoping to see deer. All he saw was a cornfield, with an irrigation machine spraying millions of gallons of water over it. "Mommy, I have to go potty." He almost said that aloud, but as he opened his mouth, he saw that angry-sad look in Mommy's face that showed she was thinking about Dad again. Last time Bobby asked when they would be together again, Mommy said, "when your father gets on his knees and kisses my rear and begs me to take him back." Bobby wished that would happen. "Mommy, I have to go potty!" The words were almost out of his mouth when the car rounded another hairpin turn, a little too fast, and the road dipped sharply. Bobby held on for dear life and in his distraction started to wet. Before he thought about stopping himself, his short pants were soaked, and pee was running down his legs. "Bobby, what's the matter honey?" At first all Barbara noticed was the boy's sniffling and the tears trickling down his cheeks. Then with some alarm, she noted the cause of his distress. She pulled the car off the road, beside a roadside picnic table. She was in a difficult mood to begin with, and this definately did not help matters. "Bobby, why didn't you tell me you had to go!?" "I don't know!" the boy sobbed. Barbara got out of the car and stalked angrily to the passenger side. Opening the door, she unfastened the seat belt and roughly pulled her son from the car, standing him on his quivering, wet legs. He was a picture of fear and misery. "And soon to be much more miserable," she thought. "Damn it, Bobby, look at you! Even your shirt is wet! How could you be so thoughtless?" She was holding the boy's shoulders as she spoke. When he didn't answer, she placed him, not at all gently, on the picnic table. "Well you just sit here whilst I clean up your mess, then we'll take care of you!" Bobby sat there sobbing, his wet shorts cold against his legs. "I should have said something earlier," he thought. His mother was bending over, scrubbing the seat with a rag, wetted with water from the bottle she always had in the car. Her rear was quite pretty, and if he was Dad, he wouldn't mind kissing it. By the time she had finished scrubbing the car, Barbara had calmed down. It seemed Bobby had too; now he looked simply anxious and sad instead of terrified. Barbara felt her heart beating with maternal love for her little boy. "Still, we cannot have any more of this," she thought. She stood over the boy. "All right, Bobby, care to explain?" As there was no answer from the frightened lad, she continued. "Very well then. What happened is that you had an accident. You had to go, but didn't say anything, so you wet yourself. Now Bobby, you are almost 10 years old, and you know better. We don't want any more accidents in the future, do we, dear one?" "No, Mommy." He was a little more calm, looking up at this sympathetic figure. "If I spank you, you will remember to tell Mommy so you don't wet yourself." Barbara stroked his tear streaked face. "You do want to remember to tell Mommy, don't you?" "Yes, Mommy," came the somewhat fearful reply. "Here now, let's get these awful wet things off," Barbara said, lifting off his shirt. She gently laid her son back on the picnic table, removed his sneakers and wet socks. Then, she lifted his lower half with one hand and removed shorts and undies with the other. all this time, she looked in his eyes and murmered comforts. "Now, this will hurt a lot," she said in that same comforting, maternal tone. "But it's for the best." She lifted her son's damp naked body from the table and, sitting down on the bench, gently placed him across her ample lap. Barbara felt her little boy's body tense in anticipation of what was to come. Bobby was scared, but not as much as before. Mommy was always so loving and nice, even when she had to spank. Just the same, he couldn't relax. He knew what was going to happen next. He tried not to cry, because it was baby. But he sniffled when she laid her hand on his bottom, and even before the first blow landed he was weeping aloud. WHAP! The first spank on his damp bottom hurt bad! WHAP!! WHAP!! WHAP!! It was awful, and Bobby knew it was just starting! WHAP-WHAP-WHAP-WHAP-WHAP!! Bobby's sobs turned to wails, and then to screams as the spanking began in earnest. He was kicking his legs helplessly as spank after awful spank landed on his sore bottom. Bobby's screams turned to one long wail. His bottom went from hot and painful to fiery and awful awful pain! He wailed pitifully as Mommy's big hand came down again and again, covering his whole bottom each with each dreadful spank. Finally Bobby was exhausted and just lay there crying and getting spanked. With a practiced ear, Barbara listened for her son's angry screams to turn to the weeping that for him accompanied genuine sorrow. Then she added a few more spanks to rub the lesson in. When she picked him up off her lap, her little one was trembling and weeping, but did not rub his bottom nor do anything else defiant. Mommy hugged Bobby to her large bosom. His legs were too trembly to stand; she let him sit on her lap, and stroked his head as he wept weakly into her bosom. She told him gently that she loved him, and that she wanted him to ask Mommy for permission when he had to go, and that he was never to wet himself ever again. "Now, dearest, why don't we get you cleaned up, so we can go to our new home?" Mommy said brightly. She led Bobby back to the car. The sun had dried and warmed his seat, and Mommy sat down on it and took another rag. She washed Bobby off thoroughly from his chest to his ankles, teasing him about making so much pee. Then Mommy dried bobby off with her soft blue skirt, even brushing off the pebbles and sand that clung to the bottoms of his feet. Bobby's penis was hard by the time she was finished washing and drying him. Mommy cuddled Bobby for a while in the car, gently squeezing and rubbing his penis, and kissed his forehead after he got shivery. Barbara put clean underpants on her son, but refused him any other clothes. "I want you to remember your lesson today," she said "so you can't wear clothes until I say." Her well-trained little boy gave not one word of complaint. His soft hug and submissive "yes, Mommy" was more than enough reward for today's trouble. They drove off in the late afternoon sun, and Mommy pointed out to Bobby the deer feeding in the meadow. -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | <http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>