Old School Blazer

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Doggy

He stroked the felt badge on his old school blazer with affection.  He should have thrown the blazer away years ago, as he never wore it, and it smelt of mothballs.  There it was, hanging on a polished wooden coat hanger, on a brass rail within a rather knackered old wardrobe.  He sighed and remembered his school days.  They were happier days and simpler times.It was seven whole years since he’d left the sixth form.  He had been an underachiever, or lazy, depending on your point of view.  The odd fierce beating had failed to motivate him.  Neither had the special attention and encouragement of his homosexual English cum RE teacher been of any help.  He left with one solitary ‘A’ Level pass, in History of all subjects.  It was a subject that appealed to him still, for he was of a nostalgic bent.  To a certain extent, you could say he lived in the past.Carefully he took the blazer down from the hanger and folded it once, neatly, and placed it in one of the large leather trunks in his bedsit.  He carried on placing clothes in the trunk, thinking now and then about his old blazer as he did so.  Eventually, he was packed.  His aunt would be there soon.  He was moving out of paid digs into his aunt’s home in a leafy suburb of the city.  In truth, being a tenant hadn’t worked out for him, and when his favourite aunt offered him a room at a token rent, he really couldn’t resist.It had been agreed between the lad, his aunt and his parents that he would stay there for a year or so.  The idea was that he should sober up and take his fledgling Civil Service career a little more seriously.  He could save up the deposit on a rental property while he lodged with his aunt.Eventually, she arrived in her beat-up Morris 1100 estate.  It was barely big enough to accommodate the two leather trunks, his record player and albums.  She smiled lovingly at her nephew, lit https://www.izmitescortlarim.com/” title=”escort bayan”>escort bayan a cigarette and gave the accelerator hell in high heels.  The overladen old car burst into life, the tyres screeching and leaving an acrid smell of burning rubber behind.  He’d forgotten what a truly awful driver she was!  He held on for dear life as she whipped the recalcitrant Morris around corners it was clearly taxed by.In record time, they were back at her house, a whitewashed semi in a pricey cul-de-sac.  He’d forgotten quite what a lovely place it was, and he remembered glorious summer holidays he’d spent there while his parents had short holidays in desperate hope of saving their loveless marriage.  Despite the odds, they had succeeded in maintaining their relationship.  He wondered to himself why his aunt hadn’t settled down.It was a few weeks later that things took an interesting turn.  One Friday evening, young Jonathan was summoned downstairs by his aunt.  As ever, she looked remarkable and regal.  Her purple paisley outfit stank of cigarettes and cheap perfume.  She had her arms crossed and an expression which veered between disdain and amusement.“Anything the matter Aunty?” he asked.“Yes, a little something, Jonathan.  It’s not the end of the world, but you have been a little inconsiderate.”“I have?” asked Jonathan, racking his brains as to what he could have possibly done wrong.“Yes.  Now, when you moved in, I agreed to clean your room now and then, as you couldn’t really be trusted to.”“Yes, Aunty.  I’m truly grateful.  Really, I must thank you.”“Alright, alright!  Don’t overdo it.  Now, I don’t want you thinking I’m a miserable old fossil, Jonathan, but I really didn’t like the state of your room.”“Sorry, Aunty.”“It’s OK, Jonathan.  I was just a little dismayed to find dirty handkerchiefs and underpants lying around.  Then, I almost tripped over a pile of https://www.izmitescortlarim.com/escort/kocaeli-escort-bayan” title=”kocaeli escort bayan”>kocaeli escort bayan girly magazines.”“Oh, Aunty, I’m sorry, I should have put them away.”“Yes, you should have.”“I’m sorry.  In fact, I’ll throw them away, if you like.”“No, no.  Don’t be silly.  I understand that men like to play with themselves.  Apart from which, I had a quick flick through the magazines.  I hope you don’t mind.”“Err, no, Aunty.  I’m just a bit shocked.”“No need to be.  I enjoyed the pictures.  I have always had Sapphic interests, you know.”Actually, he didn’t know.  He’d seen that word somewhere but couldn’t remember what it meant just then.  He blushed a little, as she continued, “But I was a little surprised to find some spanking magazines in the pile.  An interest of yours?” she asked with a penetrating gaze.“Err, not really.  I bought them on a whim.”“Don’t lie to me, Jonathan!  I saw the cover prices of those magazines, you don’t pay that kind of money if you’re not really interested.  You’ve circled some of the personals as well.”“Oh, Aunty!”“You’ve been a naughty boy, Jonathan.  Aunty’s not happy.  Can you guess what comes next?” she asked him teasingly.“No.”“Naughty boys get their bottoms smacked, Jonathan.  We’re agreed about that, aren’t we?”He nodded anxiously.“And if you’re the naughty boy, who’s left to do the smacking?”He gulped, “Well, you are, I suppose.  But I don’t want to do it, Aunty.  It’s only a silly fantasy.  Can’t I just throw the magazines away, and we can forget all about it?”“No, I told you.  I liked those magazines.  You’ve opened Pandora’s box.  You can share your magazines with me in the future, naughty boy.  Especially the spanking ones.”“Oh, Aunty.  This isn’t right at all!”“Shut up, Jonathan!  You and I are going to have some fun.  Now, go and put your office clothes on.  Except for a jacket.  Instead, https://www.izmitescortlarim.com/escort/kocaeli-escort” title=”kocaeli escort”>kocaeli escort you can wear that cute school blazer for me.”He hadn’t realised she had even seen the old blazer in the built-in wardrobe unit.  How he wished he’d thrown it away.  And those cp magazines!  Why couldn’t he be normal?  He headed upstairs anxiously.  In his bedroom, he slid the frosted glass doors of the wardrobe back along their runners.  He reached out for a pair of grey slacks, and a white shirt.  It would need ironing!  But, much to his surprise, it was uncreased.  Aunty had ironed all of his shirts, perhaps in expectation of the evening’s events.  He picked a striped tie that would complement the blazer.  Slowly, he got changed.  He wasn’t sure that he really deserved or wanted a spanking.  He couldn’t bring himself to argue with Aunty, however.  She was so nice, after all.Slowly, he did up the buttons of his shirt and then he peeled down his underpants and gazed at his pert, naked buttocks in the full-length mirror.  He gave them a loving squeeze.  If he was going to be spanked, he decided, then he wanted it to really hurt!  He toyed with the idea of leaving his underpants off altogether, but obviously, Aunty wanted him in traditional schoolboy attire, so he pulled them back up.  Then he thought about the spanking some more.  Would it be on his bare bottom?  Bound to be, as he’d been looking at nude magazines!Jonathan had dithered enough.  It was time to go down the stairs and face the music.  He strolled into the living room, trying to look nonchalant or even a touch defiant.  However, he couldn’t keep the pretence up for long, for he was astonished to see his aunt flexing a rattan school cane, just like the ones in his spanking mags, crook handle and all!“Aunty, you didn’t say anything about a caning!  Just a smacked bottom!”“You’re forgetting those circled adverts, my boy.  ‘Dominant aunt canes naughty pupils in luxury home’ and so forth.  I know what you want and what you need.  But don’t worry you’ll be feeling my hand as well as this cane.  My, my, I must say how smart you look in your old school blazer!”

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