Fiction: Double Trouble (FF/MM)

It was a bright Saturday morning when Mrs. Linda Carter decided she had had enough. Her son, Luke, an 18-year-old who had just started attending college, spent his days lounging in his room, gaming, and leaving a trail of mess behind him. His shaggy hair was unkempt, his clothes were wrinkled and sometimes stained, and his attitude toward his parents was, at best, dismissive.

Linda stood in the doorway of Luke’s messy room, her arms crossed, surveying the disaster. Clothes were strewn across the floor, plates of half-eaten food sat on his desk, and a funky smell permeated the air. Luke, sprawled on his bed in sweatpants and a hoodie that hadn’t seen the inside of a washing machine in weeks, glanced up at her with mild irritation.

“What?” he grumbled, not even bothering to take off his headphones.

Mrs. Carter took a deep breath and stepped into the room. “Luke, I’ve had enough of this. Enough of your laziness, enough of your disrespect, and enough of this disgusting mess you call a room.”

Luke sighed and rolled his eyes. “Mom, can we not do this today? I’m busy.”

“Busy doing what, Luke? Ignoring your responsibilities? Disrespecting your father and me? Enough is enough. I’m giving you an ultimatum. You either clean yourself up, get a haircut, clean this room, and do your homework—or I’m going to take matters into my own hands.”

Luke pulled off his headphones and sat up, incredulous. “What are you even talking about? I’m in college. I’m18! You can’t tell me what to do anymore.”

Mrs. Carter’s voice hardened, and she took a step closer, her eyes narrowing. “Oh, I can tell you what to do. And if you don’t listen, I’m going to spank you, Luke. Yes, I said it. If you’re going to act like a lazy, disrespectful child, I’ll treat you like one.”

Luke stared at her, his mouth hanging open. “You’re joking. There’s no way you can do that. I’m an adult.”

“An adult who lives under my roof and depends on me for everything. And as long as that’s the case, you’ll follow my rules.” She pointed to his bed. “You have until tonight to clean up your act. If not, we’ll see if a long-delayed trip over my knee doesn’t remind you how to behave.”

Luke laughed nervously. “This is insane. You can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious.” Mrs. Carter’s tone left no room for doubt. “You have until dinner. I expect to see a clean room, a tidy appearance, and proof that you’ve started your homework. If not, I’ll handle this the way I see fit. Do I make myself clear?”

Luke stammered, “But—Mom, you can’t—”

“I can, and I will. Now get moving.” With that, Mrs. Carter turned on her heel and left the room, leaving Luke sitting there, stunned.

For the rest of the day, Luke half-heartedly tidied up his room, occasionally glancing at the clock. Part of him believed his mother wouldn’t go through with it. After all, he was too old for something like that, right? But as the afternoon stretched into evening, the thought nagged at him. His mom had always been a woman of her word.

When dinner rolled around, Luke shuffled into the kitchen, his hair still a mess and his clothes unchanged. His room was only half-clean, and his homework sat untouched. He was hoping his mother would drop the issue, but the look on her face as she set down her fork told him otherwise.

“Luke,” she said calmly, “did you do what I asked?”

“Mostly…” He scratched the back of his head.

“But not all, obviously,” she said, glancing at his still-dishevelled appearance.

“Relax, Mom, I’ll get to it. Jeeze…”

“No excuses. I warned you what will happen.” She pushed her chair back and stood, her expression resolute. “Go to the living room. Now.”

“What? Mom, come on—”

“Now,” she said firmly, pointing toward the door.

Luke shuffled into the living room, his heart racing. Mrs. Carter followed behind him, pulling a sturdy wooden chair from the corner and setting it in the center of the room. She sat down and fixed him with a no-nonsense glare.

“Drop the attitude, young man. If you’re going to behave like a child, then you’ll be disciplined like one. Get over here.”

“Mom, this is crazy. You can’t do this,” Luke protested, backing away.

“Do you want to add to your punishment, Luke? Or do you want to get this over with?” Her voice was icy, and Luke realized he had no way out.

Linda watched Luke shift nervously from foot to foot. He knew he was in trouble, and she knew exactly how she was going to handle it. It wasn’t the first time she’d considered spanking him, but it was the first time she’d decided it was truly necessary.

He needed a lesson—one that would stick.

Her eyes flicked to his sweatpants, rumpled and hanging loosely on his hips. She could spank him over those. It would be easier, quicker, and less awkward for both of them. But no. That wouldn’t be enough. The thick fabric would dampen the sting, and she doubted he’d take it seriously if he didn’t feel the full force of the punishment.

Boxers, perhaps? She could pull his sweatpants down and spank him over his underwear. That would still send a message, but it wouldn’t have the same impact she was looking for. No, Luke needed to feel every swat, not just physically but emotionally. This wasn’t just about correcting his behavior; it was about teaching him respect and humility.

Bare is better, she thought firmly. A bare-bottom spanking would deliver the sharp sting of each smack, and it would also strip away the last vestiges of his teenage defiance. He needed to understand that he wasn’t too old to be held accountable—and that accountability could be as embarrassing as it was painful.

Linda considered how to proceed. She could have him lie across her lap and lower his pants herself, maintaining a degree of modesty. But the more she thought about it, the less appealing that option seemed. No, she decided. There would be no modesty. Standing there and having to lower his pants and boxers himself would add an element of childish humiliation—a reminder that he wasn’t in control of the situation. He would feel exposed, vulnerable, and thoroughly chastised before the spanking even began.

Her decision made, Linda fixed him with a stern look. “Luke, come here,” she said, her voice leaving no room for argument.

Luke shuffled forward, his eyes wide and his cheeks already starting to flush. “Mom, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“Enough,” she interrupted. “I gave you a chance, and you ignored it. Now it’s time for you to face the consequences.”

She let the words hang in the air for a moment before continuing. “You’re going to be spanked, Luke. And it’s going to be on your bare bottom.”

Luke’s face turned bright red. “Bare?” he echoed, his voice cracking. “Mom, no, please—”

“Bare,” she repeated firmly. “Now lower your sweatpants and boxers. Right here. Right now.”

The look on his face was almost comical—wide-eyed disbelief mixed with outright panic. He opened his mouth to protest, but one sharp glare from her silenced him. Slowly, reluctantly, his trembling hands moved to the waistband of his sweatpants and he lowered them to his knees.

But there Luke stood frozen. His heart pounded in his chest as he stared at the floor, too ashamed to meet his mother’s gaze. The reality of what was about to happen weighed heavily on him, and his mind raced in a whirlwind of disbelief, dread, and humiliation.

This isn’t happening, he thought desperately, his fingers twitching at his sides. I’m too old for this. She can’t actually expect me to…

But one look at her stern expression told him there was no way out. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her eyes unwavering. She wasn’t bluffing. If anything, the quiet authority she exuded only made the situation more mortifying. She had already made him drop his sweatpants. Now she was waiting for him to take the next step—to lower his boxers and expose himself completely.

How can she do this to me? he thought, his face blazing with embarrassment. I’m eighteen! This isn’t fair!

The logical part of his mind knew there was no point in arguing. His mother had always been firm, and when she made a decision, there was no changing her mind. He’d pushed her too far this time, and now he was paying the price. Still, standing there, knowing he was about to bare himself in front of her, was almost too much to handle.

What’s she thinking right now? he wondered, his stomach twisting. Is she judging me? Laughing at me in her head? This is so humiliating…

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his hands hovering near the waistband of his boxers. His fingers trembled as they brushed the fabric, and he hesitated, unable to bring himself to do it.

“Luke,” his mother’s voice cut through his spiraling thoughts, firm but not unkind. “I’m waiting. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

He swallowed hard, his throat dry. Harder than it has to be? How could it get any worse than this?

His cheeks burned as he imagined what was about to happen. She would see everything. He’d never felt more exposed, more vulnerable in his life. It wasn’t just the physical baring of his body—it was the stripping away of his pride, the undeniable reminder that he wasn’t as grown-up as he wanted to believe.

She’s treating me like a little kid, he thought bitterly, even as tears of frustration welled in his eyes. This isn’t fair. This isn’t fair…

But deep down, beneath the anger and embarrassment, was the nagging truth he couldn’t ignore: he’d brought this on himself. He’d pushed the boundaries too far, ignored too many warnings, and now there was no escape from the consequences. As much as he hated to admit it, a part of him knew he deserved this.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Luke finally hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers. His hands moved slowly, as if trying to delay the inevitable, but his mother’s expectant gaze spurred him forward. He lowered the fabric inch by inch, his heart pounding harder with every second.

When his boxers finally joined his sweatpants around his knees, he felt a wave of mortification crash over him. He stood there, fully exposed, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he fought the instinct to cover himself. His mother’s gaze remained calm and steady, which somehow made it even worse.

She’s actually looking at me, he thought, his face burning. I can’t believe this is happening. This is the worst moment of my life.

“Good,” his mother said, her tone as firm as ever. She gestured to her lap. “Now come here.”

Luke hesitated, his legs trembling, before finally shuffling forward. He couldn’t believe he was about to let her take him across her knee and spank him like a misbehaving child. But with every step, the humiliating reality sank in deeper: he had no choice. This was happening.

“Good,” she said, patting her lap. “Now come here, and let’s get this over with.”

As Luke shuffled forward, his head hanging, Linda steeled herself for what was to come. She knew this was the right choice—not just for today, but for the future. He needed to learn respect, humility, and accountability. And she was determined to make sure he did.

Mrs. Carter guided him firmly over her lap, positioning him so that his bare bottom was raised. She adjusted her grip, holding him securely with one hand on his back.

“Maybe this will teach you to listen the first time,” she said, raising her hand.

The first swat landed with a sharp crack, and Luke let out a yelp. Mrs. Carter didn’t let up, delivering a steady, stinging rhythm of swats to his exposed backside. Luke squirmed and kicked, but her hold was firm, and there was no escaping her discipline.

“Ow! Mom! Okay, I get it!” he cried, his voice breaking. But Mrs. Carter wasn’t finished.

“You’ll get it when I say you’ve gotten it,” she replied, punctuating her words with sharp swats. “This is for your laziness.” Smack! “This is for your disrespect.” Smack! “And this is for thinking you’re too old to be disciplined.” Smack!

By the time she was done, Luke’s bottom was a gentle pink, and he was blinking back tears of mortification. Mrs. Carter finally let him up, and he quickly pulled his pants back up, his face considerably redder than his backside.

“Now,” she said, standing and pointing toward his room, “I expect you to finish cleaning, do your homework, and be ready to apologize to your father and me when you’re done. Understood?”

Luke nodded mutely, too humiliated to speak, and shuffled off to his room.

——

Later that evening, Luke sat in his room looking around—clothes folded, floor vacuumed, trash removed—and sighed. His homework was half-finished, but he didn’t dare leave it incomplete. By the time he was done, it was nearly midnight, but he wasn’t willing to risk another punishment.

The next morning, Luke approached his parents hesitantly at the breakfast table. His mother sat with her coffee and newspaper, while his father, Mr. Carter, flipped through emails on his tablet. Luke cleared his throat, and both parents looked up.

“Mom, Dad,” he began, his voice quiet. “I just wanted to say… I’m sorry. For being lazy and disrespectful. You were right, Mom. I needed to hear it.” His cheeks turned pink as he avoided meeting their eyes. “And I’ve made an appointment to get a haircut tomorrow. Just so you know.”

Mrs. Carter nodded approvingly, a small smile playing on her lips. “That’s good to hear, Luke. I hope you’re serious about turning over a new leaf.”

“I am,” Luke mumbled, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

Mr. Carter shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearing his throat. He glanced at his wife, who raised an eyebrow at him as if daring him to say something. Finally, he looked at Luke.

“Well, son,” Mr. Carter began, his voice tinged with awkwardness, “I’m glad you’re taking responsibility. But, uh…” He coughed again, clearly struggling. “I just—how do I put this? I can’t believe your mother had to, uh, spank you to get you to shape up.”

Luke’s face turned bright red. “Dad, please—”

“No, no, I’m not trying to embarrass you,” his father said quickly, though the flush creeping up his own neck suggested he was embarrassed enough for both of them. “It’s just… you’re 18. I thought we were past that kind of thing.”

Mrs. Carter interjected, her tone calm but firm. “And yet, it worked, didn’t it? Sometimes you have to take action to get through to someone, regardless of their age.”

Mr. Carter scratched the back of his head, clearly unsure how to respond. “I guess… I just feel bad for the kid. I mean, I remember what it felt like when my parents…” He trailed off, looking sheepish.

Mrs. Carter shot him a pointed look. “It’s not about feeling bad, Mark. It’s about ensuring he grows into a responsible adult. And if a spanked bottom is what it takes, then so be it.”

Luke buried his face in his hands. “Can we not talk about this, please?”

“Alright, but before we move on, I want to make something very clear. Spankings are officially back on the menu in this household.”

Luke froze, his fork halfway to his mouth, and glanced up at her in disbelief. “Mom…”

“You heard me,” Linda said, her voice steady. “If you step out of line—whether it’s laziness, disrespect, or outright disobedience—you can expect to find yourself over my knee. And let me be perfectly clear: every single one of those spankings will start the same way. Pants and undies down.”

Luke’s face turned bright red, and he opened his mouth to protest, but his father beat him to it.

“Linda, don’t you think that’s a bit much?” Mark said hesitantly, setting his coffee down. “He’s 18. He’s too old for this kind of punishment.”

“Talking hasn’t worked,” Linda replied, her tone cold. “And if you’d been more consistent about backing me up over the years, maybe we wouldn’t even be in this position. But here we are, Mark. So I suggest you stay out of it.”

Mark sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping as he picked up his coffee again. “Fine,” he muttered, his voice low.

Linda turned her attention back to Luke, her expression softening slightly but her tone remaining firm. “This isn’t negotiable, Luke. You live under my roof, and as long as that’s the case, you’ll follow my rules. And when you don’t, you’ll face the consequences. Is that understood?”

Luke swallowed hard, his face burning with a mix of shame and frustration. “Yes, ma’am,” he said quietly.

“Good,” Linda said, straightening up.

——

The next day, Luke followed through on his promise, walking into the barbershop with a renewed sense of purpose. As he sat in the chair and watched the shaggy locks fall to the floor, he couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of embarrassment and relief. The spanking had been humiliating, but it had also been a wake-up call—one he realized he might have needed.

When he returned home that afternoon, his mother smiled warmly at his fresh haircut and tidier appearance. “Looking sharp, Luke,” she said. “Keep this up, and you’ll make us proud.”

Luke nodded, his cheeks flushing faintly. “Thanks, Mom. I will.”

Though the memory of his punishment still stung—both figuratively and literally—Luke resolved to take this chance to turn things around. After all, he had learned one thing for certain: his mother wasn’t bluffing.

——

It didn’t take long for Luke to begin slipping back into his old habits. The clean room slowly became cluttered again, his hair grew shaggy at the edges, and while he occasionally did his homework, there were nights when gaming or scrolling on his phone took precedence. His mom noticed but decided to give him some slack, hoping he would self-correct. But when Luke came home one afternoon with a crumpled test paper in his backpack, the bubble burst.

Mrs. Carter was in the kitchen when he walked in. She turned, smiling, but her expression immediately changed when she saw the look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked sharply.

Luke hesitated, then pulled the test paper from his bag and handed it to her without a word. She unfolded it and scanned the page. The bright red D at the top was like a flashing light. Her face hardened.

“Luke. What is this?”

“It’s… just one test,” he mumbled, avoiding her eyes.

“Just one test?” Her voice was rising. “Luke, you promised us you’d stay on top of your work! A D? What happened?”

At that moment, Mr. Carter walked in from the living room, hearing the commotion. He took one look at the test and let out a long sigh. “Oh, Luke,” he muttered, shaking his head.

Luke tried to explain. “I—I meant to study, I swear. It just… slipped my mind.”

Mrs. Carter’s eyes narrowed, and she stepped closer, holding the test up in front of him. “It slipped your mind? Your grades? Your responsibilities? Luke, this isn’t a game. You’re 18, you’re supposed to be preparing for your future, and you let it slip your mind?”

“I’m sorry,” Luke said, his voice cracking. “I’ll do better next time. I promise.”

“Sorry isn’t good enough!” she snapped, her frustration boiling over. “You need to take accountability for your actions, and clearly, whatever’s been done so far hasn’t been enough to get through to you.”

Luke’s face paled, and he stepped back instinctively. “Mom, come on, I already said I’m sorry—”

“Don’t you dare think you’re too old for consequences,” she interrupted, her voice sharp and stern. “You’ve already proven you can’t be trusted to stay on top of things on your own. Clearly, you need a reminder of what happens when you don’t hold up your end of the bargain.”

“Linda…” Mr. Carter interjected, his voice low and uncomfortable. “Maybe we should give him a chance to make this right—”

“No, Mark,” Mrs. Carter cut him off. “He had his chance. We let him slide when he started slipping, hoping he’d take responsibility on his own. But this?” She held up the test paper. “This shows he hasn’t learned anything.”

Luke’s eyes filled with tears as he realized where this was heading. “Mom, please, I’m too old for this. It won’t happen again, I swear—”

“You’ve already broken your promises, Luke,” she said, crossing her arms. “And if you think I’m going to let you coast through life without consequences, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Mr. Carter shifted uncomfortably in the background, clearly embarrassed for his son but unwilling to challenge his wife. He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact with Luke, whose cheeks were burning with humiliation.

“Mom,” Luke pleaded, his voice trembling. “I’ll do better, I promise. Just don’t—”

“Enough,” she said firmly. “Go to your room, Luke. Now.”

Tears spilled down Luke’s face as he turned and trudged toward his room, his head hanging. The tension in the house was thick as Mrs. Carter followed him. Mr. Carter lingered in the kitchen, shaking his head and muttering to himself.

——

In his room, Luke sat on the edge of his bed, his heart pounding as his mother entered and closed the door behind her. She pulled the wooden chair from his desk and sat down, her expression unwavering.

“You’ve earned this, Luke,” she said, patting her lap. “Now come here.”

“Mom, please,” he whimpered, tears streaming down his face. “I’m sorry. I’ll study next time, I promise!”

“Promises don’t mean anything if you don’t follow through,” she said sternly. “You need to feel the weight of your actions, Luke. Now come here.”

Reluctantly, and with his face burning with humiliation, Luke stood and shuffled over to her. His hands shook as she grabbed his wrist and guided him across her lap.

“Let this be a reminder,” she said as she reached for the waistband of his sweatpants. “You’re never too old for consequences.”

Luke squeezed his eyes shut as his mother pulled his sweatpants and boxers down, exposing his bare bottom. The first swat landed with a sharp crack, and he let out a sob.

Each smack stung worse than the last, and by the time Mrs. Carter finished, Luke was a tearful, apologetic mess. She let him up, and he quickly pulled his pants back on, his face red with shame.

“Now,” she said firmly, pointing to his desk. “You will sit down, complete all your homework, and start preparing for the next test. And you will hand in that D tomorrow with an apology to your teacher for not taking their class seriously. Understood?”

“Y-yes, ma’am,” Luke stammered, wiping his tears.

Mrs. Carter nodded and left the room, leaving Luke to his thoughts. In the kitchen, Mr. Carter glanced up as she returned.

“Did you really have to do that again?” he asked quietly.

She met his gaze without flinching. “Yes, Mark. He’s still learning, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure he grows into a responsible adult.”

Mr. Carter sighed. “Well, I suppose it worked last time.”

“And it’ll work again,” she replied confidently, pouring herself a cup of coffee. Meanwhile, Luke sat at his desk, sniffling as he cracked open his textbook, determined not to let this happen again.

——

The following morning, Luke sat at the kitchen table with a notebook in front of him, working on the apology letter his mother had insisted he write to his professor. His bottom still stung from the punishment the night before, and the weight of his embarrassment hung over him like a dark cloud.

Mrs. Carter stood by the counter with her coffee, watching him closely. “Read it out loud, Luke,” she said, her voice firm but calm.

Luke hesitated, his cheeks already flushing. “Do I have to?”

“Yes, you do. Read it,” she repeated, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Luke sighed and began to read, his voice low. “Dear Professor Ellis, I apologize for not studying properly for the recent test and for receiving such a poor grade. It was irresponsible of me, and I will make sure to do better in the future. Thank you for your understanding.”

Mrs. Carter raised an eyebrow as he finished. “That’s it?”

“Yeah,” Luke said, shifting uncomfortably. “I mean, what else am I supposed to say?”

Mrs. Carter set her coffee cup down and folded her arms. “Luke, you’re leaving out an important detail.”

Luke blinked, confused. “What detail?”

“The fact that you were disciplined for your laziness,” she said matter-of-factly. “Specifically, that I spanked you.”

Luke’s jaw dropped. “Mom, no! I can’t put that in there!”

Mrs. Carter’s expression hardened. “Yes, you can, and you will. You need to take full accountability for your actions, Luke. That includes acknowledging the consequences you faced. This is a lesson in humility, and you need to learn it.”

“Linda,” Mr. Carter interjected from the other side of the table, his voice hesitant. “Don’t you think that’s a bit much? It’s already embarrassing enough for him as it is. Making him tell his professor he got spanked? Come on, that’s humiliating.”

Mrs. Carter turned to her husband, her eyes steely. “Exactly. Humiliation is part of the lesson, Mark. He needs to understand that his actions have consequences—not just here at home, but in the real world. If he’s too ashamed to admit it, then maybe he’ll think twice before letting something like this happen again.”

“Mom, please,” Luke pleaded, tears welling up in his eyes. “She’s a young professor. She’s only, like, ten years older than me. This will ruin me!”

Mrs. Carter remained resolute. “It won’t ruin you, Luke. It will teach you. Now, rewrite the letter, and this time include the fact that you were spanked for your behavior. Once you’ve finished, bring it back here so I can approve it.”

Mr. Carter sighed and rubbed his temples. “Linda, I get where you’re coming from, but don’t you think this might backfire? What if the professor thinks we’re being too harsh?”

“Then she can take it up with me,” Mrs. Carter replied coolly. “This isn’t about her opinion, Mark. It’s about teaching Luke responsibility and humility.”

Luke sniffled, his face beet red, as he reluctantly picked up his pen and began rewriting the letter. His hand trembled as he added the humiliating detail his mother demanded:

“Dear Professor Ellis,

I apologize for not studying properly for the recent test and for receiving such a poor grade. It was irresponsible of me, and I will make sure to do better in the future. I would also like to inform you that my mother disciplined me at home for this failure. She spanked me to teach me the importance of responsibility, and I assure you I have learned my lesson. Thank you for your understanding.”

When he finished, he handed the letter to his mother, his hands shaking. Mrs. Carter read it over, nodded, and handed it back to him.

“Good,” she said. “Now take that to Professor Ellis, have her sign it to confirm she’s read it, and bring it back to me. Understood?”

Luke’s mouth fell open. “Sign it? Mom, no! That’s too much!”

“Yes, sign it,” she said firmly. “It’s not enough for her to read it—you need to show me proof that she’s seen it. Otherwise, how will I know you’ve actually followed through?”

Mr. Carter groaned. “Linda, for God’s sake. You’re going to make the poor kid hand that to his professor and get it signed? That’s mortifying.”

“It’s supposed to be mortifying, Mark,” Mrs. Carter replied sharply. “That’s the whole point. He’ll think twice about slacking off next time if he knows this is what he has to face.”

Luke buried his face in his hands, groaning. “This is the worst day of my life.”

“Then let it be the last time you ever put yourself in this position,” Mrs. Carter said. “Now, off you go. And don’t come home without that signature.”

With his stomach churning and his face flaming, Luke stuffed the letter into his bag and trudged out the door, dreading the conversation ahead. Mr. Carter watched him go, shaking his head.

“You’re ruthless, Linda,” he muttered.

“And he’ll thank me for it one day,” she replied, picking up her coffee. “You’ll see.”

——

Luke had spent the rest of the day stewing in anxiety. The idea of handing his professor the note had been too much for him to bear. The thought of Professor Ellis, a composed and intelligent young woman in her early thirties, reading about his spanking was unthinkable. So, instead of following through, he had taken matters into his own hands. Using a pen and a steady hand, he carefully forged her signature at the bottom of the note and handed it to his mother that evening.

Mrs. Carter accepted the note, scanning it with narrowed eyes. “She signed it, then?”

“Yes, Mom,” Luke mumbled, looking down at his shoes. “She read it, signed it, and said she appreciated the apology.”

Mrs. Carter’s sharp gaze lingered on the paper for a moment before she nodded. “Good. I hope this is the last time we have to go through something like this.”

“Yeah, me too,” Luke said quickly, eager to escape the conversation. He shuffled off to his room, relieved to have avoided the humiliating encounter with Professor Ellis.

——

The next morning, after Luke left for school, Mrs. Carter sat at the kitchen table, turning the note over in her hands. Something didn’t sit right with her. The signature looked neat—too neat. She knew her son’s handwriting well enough to recognize the effort he’d put into mimicking another’s style.

Her suspicions grew, and she decided to get to the bottom of it. Pulling out her phone, she found the university’s directory and dialed Professor Ellis’s office.

“Professor Ellis speaking,” came the polite voice on the other end.

“Good morning, Professor,” Mrs. Carter began, her tone formal but pleasant. “This is Linda Carter, Luke’s mother. I’m calling about a note he handed in to you yesterday.”

Professor Ellis hesitated. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Carter, but I don’t recall receiving a note from Luke.”

Mrs. Carter’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I thought as much. The note was supposed to be an apology for his poor performance on a recent test. It also included a detail I insisted he share—a detail I believe he was too embarrassed to let you read.”

The professor’s curiosity was piqued. “What sort of detail?”

Mrs. Carter hesitated for a moment, then pressed on. “I insisted he include in the note that I had spanked him as a consequence for his poor behavior.”

There was a brief silence on the other end before Professor Ellis responded, her voice tinged with surprise. “I see. That… does explain a lot.”

“Yes,” Mrs. Carter said, her tone firm. “I imagine he was too humiliated to show you the note, so he forged your signature instead.”

Professor Ellis let out a sigh. “That’s not just embarrassing, Mrs. Carter—it’s dishonest. Forging my signature is a serious matter.”

Mrs. Carter didn’t hesitate. “I intend to discipline him for it, of course. And if you’re willing, I’d like you to be there when it happens. He needs to face the consequences of his actions in the most direct and impactful way possible.”

Professor Ellis was quiet for a moment, then replied, “I appreciate your commitment to discipline, Mrs. Carter. I believe in firm consequences as well, and I’d be happy to support you in addressing this behavior. What time would you like me to come by?”

Mrs. Carter smiled tightly. “This evening, around 6 p.m. We’ll ensure Luke understands the gravity of his actions.”

“Perfect. I’ll be there,” Professor Ellis said.

——

That evening, Luke was sitting in his room, oblivious to what awaited him. When the doorbell rang, he barely paid attention, assuming it was just another guest. Moments later, however, his mother’s voice called up the stairs.

“Luke, come down here. We need to talk.”

Sighing, he set down his game controller and trudged downstairs. When he reached the living room, he froze in his tracks. Professor Ellis was sitting on the couch, looking both stern and composed. Mrs. Carter stood beside her, arms crossed.

“P-Professor Ellis?” Luke stammered, his face turning crimson. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing about that forged signature, Luke,” Professor Ellis replied, her voice steady but firm. “Your mother explained everything.”

Luke’s stomach dropped. “Mom, I—”

“Don’t even start,” Mrs. Carter interrupted. “You lied to me, Luke. Worse, you forged your professor’s signature to cover it up. And now, you’re going to face the consequences.”

Luke’s knees wobbled. “Mom, please, not in front of her—”

“Oh, yes, in front of her,” Mrs. Carter said sharply. “You were too embarrassed to show her the note? Well, now she’s going to see exactly what happens when you lie and cheat. Will you time, Professor Ellis? I think 5 minutes should do.”

Professor Ellis crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap, watching with an expression of calm authority. “Mrs. Carter, I fully support you. Of course I’ll time. Please proceed.”

Mrs. Carter picked up a wooden hairbrush she had retrieved earlier from her bedroom. Luke stood before her, trembling, his face a mix of shame and terror. Professor Ellis sat calmly on the sofa, legs crossed, her phone in hand to serve as a timer, her expression neutral but her eyes sharp with disapproval.

“Luke,” Mrs. Carter said firmly, tapping the hairbrush against her palm, “you know what to do. Lower your pants and boxers.”

Luke’s face turned crimson, and he shook his head. “Mom, please—don’t make me do this in front of her. I’ll do anything else! Please!”

Mrs. Carter raised an eyebrow, her tone cold and unyielding. “You should have thought of that before you forged your professor’s signature. Now, pants down, or we’ll extend this spanking to ten minutes. Is that what you want?”

“Mom, no!” Luke pleaded, his voice cracking. “I’ll never do it again, I swear! Please don’t make me—”

“Ten minutes it is,” Mrs. Carter snapped, her eyes narrowing. “Would you like to try for fifteen? Keep stalling, and we’ll see how much you can take.”

Professor Ellis, sitting with her phone poised, cleared her throat. “Luke, I suggest you do as your mother says. The longer you argue, the worse this will get for you.”

Luke looked between his mother and his professor, tears welling in his eyes. His hands shook as they moved to the waistband of his sweatpants. “This is so humiliating,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“It’s supposed to be,” Mrs. Carter said sharply. “Maybe this humiliation will remind you to think before you act next time. Now, stop wasting time.”

With a defeated sob, Luke hooked his thumbs into his waistband and slowly lowered his sweatpants and boxers in one humiliating motion. The cool air against his bare skin made him shiver, but it was nothing compared to the heat in his face as he stood there, his genitals fully exposed. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Professor Ellis, who observed the scene silently, her gaze unwavering.

“Good,” Mrs. Carter said, sitting down on the chair and patting her lap. “Now get over my knee.”

Luke hesitated, his body trembling, but the stern look on his mother’s face left no room for argument. Sniffling, he stepped forward and awkwardly draped himself across her lap, his bare bottom raised and vulnerable.

“Start the timer, Professor Ellis,” Mrs. Carter instructed.

Professor Ellis tapped her phone. “Timer is set for ten minutes.”

Mrs. Carter wasted no time. She raised the hairbrush and brought it down with a sharp CRACK across Luke’s bare backside. He let out a yelp, his legs kicking instinctively. The sting was immediate and intense, and he knew this was only the beginning.

“Stay still, Luke,” his mother commanded, bringing the hairbrush down again and again. “You brought this on yourself.”

Luke squirmed and cried out, the sharp smacks echoing through the room. His bottom turned redder with each swat, and tears streamed down his face as he begged for mercy. “Mom, please! I’m sorry! I won’t do it again! Please stop!”

“You will take your punishment, Luke,” Mrs. Carter said, her voice calm but firm. “Professor Ellis is timing it, so you know I’ll give you every single second of these ten minutes.”

Professor Ellis glanced at her phone. “You’re at three minutes, Mrs. Carter. Seven to go.”

Luke wailed, the sound muffled by his hands as he buried his face in them. The hairbrush continued to fall mercilessly, each smack a reminder of his poor choices. He kicked and struggled, but his mother’s grip was ironclad, and there was no escaping her discipline.

By the time the timer beeped, Luke was a sobbing, humiliated mess. Mrs. Carter finally stopped and set the hairbrush aside. “Stand up,” she ordered.

Luke scrambled to his feet, pulling his boxers and pants up as quickly as possible, his face wet with tears and blazing with shame. He dared a glance at Professor Ellis, who looked at him with a mix of sternness and pity.

“Thank you for timing, Professor,” Mrs. Carter said, standing and addressing her guest. “I trust this will leave a lasting impression.”

“It certainly should,” Professor Ellis replied, rising from her seat. “Luke, I hope you’ve learned a valuable lesson today. Dishonesty has no place in the classroom—or anywhere else.”

Luke nodded miserably, unable to meet her eyes. His mother dismissed him to his room, where he fled without a word, desperate to escape the unbearable humiliation of the evening.

——

Luke closed the door to his room as quietly as possible, leaning against it for support as he tried to steady his trembling legs. His heart was still pounding, and his face felt like it was on fire. The moment the latch clicked, he let out a shaky breath, his hands instinctively moving to his backside to rub at the lingering sting.

That was the worst moment of my life, he thought, his mind racing with a mix of humiliation, frustration, and disbelief. The sharp, burning sensation across his bottom was a constant reminder of the punishment he had just endured, but it was the emotional impact that cut the deepest.

He collapsed onto his bed, wincing as the pressure on his sore backside sent another jolt of pain through him. Lying on his stomach, he buried his face in his pillow, groaning softly. I can’t believe she actually did that. In front of Professor Ellis, no less!

The memory of the professor’s calm, composed demeanor as she timed the spanking was enough to make his cheeks burn all over again. She was just… sitting there, watching me get spanked like a little kid. She’ll never look at me the same again. How am I supposed to face her after this?

He clenched his fists, pressing them into the mattress. The humiliation of being made to lower his pants and boxers, to stand there exposed in front of both his mother and his professor, was still fresh in his mind. And then being taken over his mother’s knee, the sharp cracks of the hairbrush echoing in the room while he kicked and cried—it was a scene he knew he’d never forget.

Why did Mom have to go that far? he thought bitterly. I mean, I messed up, but this? This was too much. And Professor Ellis just sat there, like it was normal or something. She didn’t even flinch!

But deep down, Luke couldn’t deny the guilt gnawing at him. He had forged her signature… Yeah, I messed up. I know I did. But did it really have to be this bad?

He groaned again, rolling onto his side to take some pressure off his still-burning bottom. Every movement reminded him of the punishment, and he had no doubt it would be sore for days.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the thought. But no matter how hard he tried, the shame wouldn’t leave him. The image of his mother standing over him with the hairbrush, of Professor Ellis sitting calmly with her phone, was burned into his memory.

I’ll never live this down, he thought miserably. Never.

But why can’t I stop thinking about this? he wondered, biting his lip. His heart raced as the thought of what had just happened refused to leave him. He felt a strange, overwhelming need to check the damage, to see the marks left by the hairbrush, if only to make sense of his conflicting feelings.

With trembling hands, he reached for the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, still snug from when he’d hastily pulled them up after the spanking. Slowly, he slid them down, wincing as the fabric brushed against his sore skin. His breath hitched as he knelt on his bed and turned slightly, using the mirror on the back of his bedroom door to examine himself.

The sight made his stomach flip. His bottom was a deep, angry red, with faint welts crossing the skin where the hairbrush had struck repeatedly. Each mark told the story of his punishment, and just looking at them brought back the sharp, stinging sensation he had felt as his mother’s firm hand guided the hairbrush down again and again. The thought of both her and Professor Ellis seeing him in such a vulnerable state made his face burn hot with shame.

But as he adjusted his position slightly, his gaze dropped—and his face turned an even deeper shade of red.

Oh no… no, no, no, he thought in panic, his eyes locking onto the undeniable evidence of his body’s betrayal. His penis was erect, standing fully at attention, as if mocking him for the confusing feelings swirling in his head. He stared at it, horrified and mortified all at once. Why is this happening?

The humiliation he felt earlier came rushing back in full force, amplified by this new realization. They saw everything, he thought, his stomach churning. Mom and Professor Ellis—they saw me like this, bare and vulnerable, and now I’m… I’m reacting like this?

He shifted awkwardly, wincing as the movement sent another jolt of pain through his bottom. But instead of diminishing, the unwanted arousal seemed to intensify, his body responding to the very thing his mind was desperately trying to reject.

What’s wrong with me? he thought, his hands trembling as he pulled his pants and boxers back up in haste, unable to bear the sight any longer. He flopped back onto his stomach, burying his face in his pillow, his heart pounding in his chest. He felt a mix of shame, frustration, and confusion, all swirling together in a way that made it impossible to think clearly.

The image of his punishment played over and over in his mind: standing there as his mother ordered him to bare himself, the cold air against his skin as his pants and boxers slid down, the unrelenting smacks of the hairbrush as he kicked and cried, and the calm, observing presence of Professor Ellis, who had witnessed every humiliating second.

Why can’t I stop thinking about it? he wondered again, his fists clutching at the pillow. It was awful. Humiliating. And yet… why does it feel like more than that?

The soreness in his bottom seemed to heighten every sensation, and despite his embarrassment and shame, his body continued to betray him. He shifted uncomfortably on the bed, trying to find a position that didn’t aggravate the ache, but the movement only intensified the unwanted feelings that had been building since he’d returned to his room.

He rubbed his hips slightly against the mattress, trying to alleviate the tension, but the motion sent an unexpected jolt through his body. He froze for a moment, his breath hitching, before instinctively repeating the movement. Each small grind against the bed seemed to pull him deeper into the overwhelming sensations, his mind clouded by the confusion of pain, shame, and an odd, undeniable release of tension.

No… I need to stop, he thought, his face burning, but his body refused to listen. The sensations built quickly, each movement sending a wave of conflicting emotions through him. He gritted his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as his hips moved instinctively, the ache in his bottom adding a strange intensity he couldn’t ignore.

And then, suddenly, it happened.

A shudder ran through his body as he felt the inevitable occur. Heat flooded his face as the realization hit him: he’d just had an accident in his pants. He froze, his breath shallow, and for a moment, he didn’t dare move, as if staying still would somehow erase what had just happened.

But the evidence was unmistakable. He shifted slightly, feeling the uncomfortable sticky dampness in his boxers, and groaned softly, burying his face even deeper into the pillow.

Oh no. No, no, no… he thought, his shame reaching new heights. This can’t be happening.

The weight of his humiliation pressed down on him like a heavy blanket. It wasn’t just the spanking, the exposure, or the presence of Professor Ellis—it was this, the undeniable proof of his body’s betrayal, that pushed him over the edge.

What’s wrong with me? he thought again, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. He rolled onto his side, curling up into a ball, his face still buried in the pillow as he tried to block out the overwhelming embarrassment.

The memory of the day, the sting in his bottom, and now this—all of it seemed to collide in his mind, leaving him feeling more vulnerable and confused than ever.

——

The next day, Luke entered Professor Ellis’s classroom, his stomach churning with anxiety. He kept his head down, avoiding eye contact with everyone, and made his way to the very back of the room, hoping to disappear into the crowd. His backside still ached from the previous night’s punishment, and the humiliation of what had happened was fresh in his mind.

Professor Ellis walked in a moment later, her heels clicking against the tile floor. She set her bag down at the lectern and began organizing her notes. Luke dared a glance at her, hoping she wouldn’t single him out. He should have known better.

“Luke,” she called out, her tone calm but commanding. “Why are you sitting in the back row?”

He froze, his face heating up as every pair of eyes in the room turned to him. “I… uh…”

“Come to the front, please,” she continued, gesturing to the empty desk directly in the center of the first row. “Front and center, where I can keep an eye on you.”

Luke swallowed hard, his humiliation mounting. “I’m fine back here,” he mumbled weakly.

Professor Ellis raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t asking, Luke. You’ll sit in the front, and I suggest you do so immediately.”

Murmurs rippled through the room, and Luke’s face burned as he stood and slowly shuffled to the front, his classmates whispering and snickering behind him. He felt their eyes on him as he sank into the front-row seat, his gaze fixed firmly on the desk in front of him.

“Thank you,” Professor Ellis said crisply, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Now that you’re where you belong, I suggest you start paying closer attention in class. And while you’re at it, I’d like to see you contribute to today’s discussion.”

Luke’s eyes widened. “Contribute?”

“Yes,” she said, her tone firm. “You’ve been far too quiet in this class, and I expect better moving forward. Start by sharing your thoughts on last night’s reading.”

Luke’s mind raced. He hadn’t even touched the assigned reading, and now he was being put on the spot in front of everyone. His voice came out barely above a whisper. “I… I didn’t get to it.”

Professor Ellis’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Unacceptable, Luke.”

“Yes, Professor,” he mumbled, his face hot with shame.

——

After class ended, Luke tried to slip out unnoticed, eager to put the class behind him. But as he packed his things, Professor Ellis approached him, her calm, authoritative demeanor making him freeze in place.

“Luke,” she said quietly, “meet me in my office in an hour. I want to discuss your performance.”

He blinked, his stomach flipping. “In your office? Why?”

Professor Ellis raised an eyebrow. “I think you know why. One hour. Don’t be late.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked out of the classroom, leaving Luke rooted to the spot. The murmurs of his classmates as they passed by only deepened his sense of dread.

——

An hour later, Luke found himself standing outside Professor Ellis’s office door, heart pounding. He hesitated, hand raised to knock, before finally forcing himself to do it. A calm “Come in” greeted him, and he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

Professor Ellis was seated at her desk, her phone and a notepad in front of her. She gestured to the chair opposite her, and Luke sat down gingerly, his face already heating with embarrassment.

She crossed her legs as she regarded him with a composed expression. Her dark hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, and her tailored blouse and skirt only added to her air of authority. She was young, sharp, and undeniably attractive, which only made the situation worse. Luke couldn’t meet her eyes, staring instead at the edge of her desk as his hands fidgeted in his lap.

“I trust you know why you’re here,” she began, her tone even but firm.

“I—I guess it’s about the reading?” Luke stammered, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

“Correct,” she said. “You didn’t complete the assigned reading, and you admitted as much in front of the entire class. That level of irresponsibility is unacceptable, Luke. Your mother made it very clear to me last night that she expects you to be held accountable not only at home but here as well.”

Luke’s eyes widened. “Wait—what do you mean?”

Professor Ellis leaned forward slightly, her gaze steady. “Your mother gave me full disciplinary authority over you, Luke. She trusts me to handle any issues that arise in my classroom. And since you’ve once again failed to meet expectations, I’m going to ensure there are consequences.”

His stomach dropped. “What kind of consequences?”

She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a wooden ruler, placing it on the desk between them. “You’re going to be spanked, Luke. Five minutes, just as I discussed with your mother.”

Her words sent a chill down his spine, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his mind racing. The thought of going through the pain and embarrassment again—this time with Professor Ellis—filled him with dread. Worse, the memory of last night crept into his mind, and he felt panic rising in his chest.

What if it happens again? he thought desperately, his hands clenching into fists. What if I can’t control it?

Luke’s face turned crimson, and he sank back into the chair, his hands trembling. “Please, Professor, this is so humiliating. I’ll do better, I swear—”

“This isn’t negotiable,” she said firmly. “Stand up.”

Luke stood shakily, his heart pounding as Professor Ellis walked around the desk and pulled the chair into the center of the room. She sat down, smoothing her skirt, and looked up at him expectantly.

“Lower your pants and boxers, Luke,” she instructed. “And don’t make me repeat myself.”

His knees felt weak as he stammered, “Please, Professor, not this—”

“Would you rather I call your mother?” she asked sharply, holding up her phone. “Because I can.”

As Luke hesitated in front of Professor Ellis, his face burned with humiliation, and his hands trembled at his sides. The weight of her stern gaze and the thought of the punishment awaiting him left his heart pounding and his stomach in knots. But as he reluctantly reached for the waistband of his pants, an entirely new wave of panic surged through him.

Oh no. Not now. Not now.

Even before his fingers hooked into the fabric, he felt it—an unmistakable and completely unwanted reaction stirring in his body. His face turned an even deeper shade of crimson as he tried to will it away, but it was no use. The more he thought about it, the worse it became, and by the time he began lowering his pants, the evidence was undeniable.

As his boxers came into view, Professor Ellis’s sharp eyes immediately caught on to the issue. She arched an eyebrow but otherwise remained composed, letting out a quiet, disappointed tsk tsk as she leaned back slightly in her chair.

Luke’s breath hitched, his hands freezing on the waistband of his boxers as he felt his body betraying him in the worst way possible. “P-Professor, I—I didn’t mean—”

She held up a hand to silence him, her expression unchanging. “Enough, Luke. This doesn’t change anything. Proceed.”

Luke hesitated, his face burning with shame as tears of frustration welled in his eyes. He wanted to disappear, to vanish entirely, but the unwavering firmness in her tone made it clear he had no choice. With a shaky breath, he lowered his boxers the rest of the way, his arousal now fully exposed.

“Luke, I expected better from you. What would your mother think?”

He swallowed hard, trembling as she reached over to the side of her desk and retrieved a neatly folded hand towel. She shook it out with practiced ease before draping it across her lap.

“This will suffice,” she said, patting the towel. “Now get over my knee. The timer will start as soon as you’re in position.”

He shuffled forward, his legs trembling, and draped himself awkwardly over her lap, the hand towel creating a barrier between him and her skirt. His heart raced as he felt the cool air on his bare bottom and the towel shift slightly beneath him. The shame of his position and his unwanted reaction coursed through him like fire.

“I’m setting the timer for five minutes,” she said, showing it to him. “I suggest you reflect on your choices during this time.”

She picked up the ruler and brought it down sharply against his exposed backside. The crack of the wood against his skin echoed in the small office, and Luke yelped, his legs kicking instinctively.

“Stay still,” Professor Ellis commanded, delivering another sharp swat. “This is for neglecting your responsibilities.”

Luke squirmed and whimpered, tears streaming down his face as the ruler came down again and again, painting his bottom with stinging swats. The timer on her phone ticked down agonizingly slowly, and every second felt like an eternity.

Luke gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, determined to remain as still as possible. The sharp sting of the first few swats made him flinch, but he forced himself to hold his position. His mother’s hairbrush spanking the day before had been mortifying, but this felt worse in ways he couldn’t fully articulate. The humiliation of being bare over his attractive professor’s lap, coupled with the unwelcome arousal he had tried so hard to suppress, left him on edge.

Just stay still. Don’t react. Don’t rub anything, he thought desperately, his fists clenching against the sides of her chair. The towel between him and her lap gave him some semblance of comfort, but the knowledge of what lay underneath made his entire body tense.

Professor Ellis’s swats were measured at first, each one landing with precision and authority. Crack! Crack! The sound echoed in the small office as Luke bit his lip, willing himself not to move. But his stillness didn’t go unnoticed.

“Hmm,” Professor Ellis murmured, pausing for a moment. “Quite stoic, aren’t you, Luke? Perhaps I’m being too lenient.”

Luke’s breath caught in his throat, his panic rising. “N-no, Professor, you’re not—”

Before he could finish, the next swat landed harder than the ones before, drawing a sharp yelp from him. She increased the intensity, delivering a rapid series of stinging blows that left his already sore bottom burning even more.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Luke’s resolve began to crumble as the relentless swats rained down, and his body started to betray him again—not just with the unwanted arousal, but with involuntary writhing as he tried to escape the sting.

“Stay still,” Professor Ellis ordered sharply, her grip on his waist tightening. “You need to take this punishment properly, Luke.”

“I’m trying!” he sobbed, his voice cracking. But despite his efforts, his hips twisted slightly, the friction of the towel against his sensitive skin sending him spiraling toward the inevitable.

And then, it happened.

A shudder ran through his body as he felt the humiliating release, the warmth spreading beneath him as his breath hitched in disbelief. For a brief moment, the only sound in the room was the timer softly ticking down on her phone.

Professor Ellis paused, her hand still raised, and tilted her head slightly as if assessing the situation. Luke buried his face in his hands, tears of shame spilling down his cheeks as he tried to will himself invisible.

After a moment of silence, she reached for her phone and calmly added a minute to the timer. “It seems you need additional time to reflect,” she said matter-of-factly, her voice steady. “We’ll address that once this is over.”

With that, she resumed the spanking, her strikes as firm and unrelenting as before, showing no sign of hesitation. The sharp crack of the swats continued, each one amplifying Luke’s humiliation as he squirmed over her lap in his wet puddle, his body trembling.

“You’ve made a series of poor decisions, Luke,” she lectured as the spanking continued. “Neglecting your responsibilities, lying, forging my signature—and now this. I hope you’re beginning to understand the importance of accountability.”

“Yes, Professor!” he sobbed, his voice muffled by his hands. “I’m sorry! Please!”

“Good,” she replied, her voice unwavering. “But apologies aren’t enough. This is about consequences.”

The spanking continued until the timer finally beeped, leaving Luke a sobbing, humiliated mess. When it was over, Professor Ellis set the hairbrush aside and patted his back firmly.

“You may stand,” she said, her tone calm but authoritative.

As Luke gingerly pushed himself up from her lap, his face burned hotter than it ever had before. He kept his eyes glued to the floor, afraid to meet her gaze, but as he stood, the full extent of his humiliation became painfully obvious.

His deflated state was clearly visible, and the sticky evidence of his accident clung to him in a way he couldn’t hide. Worse still, the damp spot on the towel she’d placed over her lap was undeniable. Luke’s breath hitched in his throat as the room seemed to grow stiflingly silent, save for the sound of Professor Ellis calmly folding the towel in her hands.

She didn’t say a word at first, methodically and precisely folding the towel into a neat square before setting it aside on her desk. Her calm, measured actions only heightened Luke’s sense of dread. Finally, she turned to a drawer in her desk, pulled out a container of wet wipes, and placed them on the edge of the desk in front of him.

“Clean yourself,” she instructed, her tone calm but firm.

Luke’s eyes widened, and his hands instinctively moved to cover himself. “P-Professor, I—”

“Now, Luke,” she said sharply, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Tears welled in Luke’s eyes as he fumbled with the lid of the container, his hands trembling. He pulled out a wet wipe and hesitated, his mortification reaching new heights as he realized there was no escaping the situation.

His face burning, Luke began to wipe himself clean, each motion a reminder of his humiliation. The sticky evidence of his accident was undeniable, and every glance at Professor Ellis’s composed expression only made the shame worse. When he finished, he stood awkwardly, holding the used wipe in his trembling hand.

“There’s a trash can by the door,” she said simply, nodding toward it. “Dispose of it, then you’ll stand in the corner until the top of the hour,” she said firmly, pointing to a small, empty space near her filing cabinet. “Pants and boxers stay down. I want you to reflect on your choices.”

Luke shuffled to the trash can, his steps slow and heavy, before tossing the wipe inside. When he turned back, he couldn’t bring himself to meet her gaze, instead focusing on the corner as he shuffled there, his pants and boxers still bunched around his knees, his blazing red bottom on full display. He pressed his forehead against the wall, his shame overwhelming. Behind him, he could hear Professor Ellis returning to her desk, the soft rustle of papers as she began marking assignments.

The room was quiet save for the occasional scratch of her pen. Luke stood trembling, wishing desperately for the clock to move faster. His humiliation felt unbearable—but it was about to get worse.

——

A sudden knock at the door made his heart sink. He froze, his entire body tensing.

“Come in,” Professor Ellis called out, her tone as calm as ever.

The door opened, and a familiar voice rang out, cheerful and slightly confused. “Hi, Professor. You wanted me to bring these—oh.”

Luke’s stomach dropped as he recognized the voice of Miss Hale, his Teaching Assistant. She was only a few years older than him, a recent graduate who ran his tutorial sessions—sessions he had been skipping more often than not. He stood motionless, praying she wouldn’t notice him.

Miss Hale’s cheerful demeanor faltered as she stepped inside and took in the scene. Her eyes widened slightly as they landed on Luke’s exposed figure in the corner, but she quickly composed herself. “I… didn’t realize you were in the middle of something,” she said, setting a stack of papers on the desk.

“Thank you, Miss Hale,” Professor Ellis said, her tone professional. “You’ve caught me handling a disciplinary matter with Mr. Carter here. He’s one of your tutorial students, isn’t he?”

Miss Hale glanced back at Luke, whose ears burned with mortification. “He is, though he rarely attends,” she said with a touch of exasperation. “I’ve seen him maybe three times all semester.”

“Well, that’s going to change,” Professor Ellis replied briskly. “As of now, Luke will be attending every tutorial session. No excuses.”

Miss Hale raised an eyebrow but nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. It’s about time.”

Luke couldn’t suppress a groan, his shame reaching new depths. Professor Ellis ignored him, continuing, “Luke’s been neglecting his academic responsibilities, and this is part of his accountability process. I trust you’ll keep an eye on his attendance from now on.”

“Of course,” Miss Hale said, her tone firm. She glanced back at Luke, her gaze steady but tinged with curiosity. “I hope this helps him turn things around.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will,” Professor Ellis replied, returning to her marking. “Luke, stay in that corner until the hour is up. Miss Hale, thank you for stopping by.”

“Anytime, Professor,” Miss Hale said, heading for the door. She hesitated for a moment, glancing at Luke one last time before leaving. The door clicked shut behind her.

Luke felt like his entire world had collapsed. The thought of facing Miss Hale in tutorials, knowing what she’d seen and heard, was almost too much to bear. Behind him, the steady scratch of Professor Ellis’s pen reminded him that his punishment wasn’t over yet.

When the clock finally struck the top of the hour, Professor Ellis spoke. “You may pull up your pants and leave, Luke. I expect you to take this lesson to heart—and I’ll be checking with Miss Hale to ensure you’re attending her tutorials.”

Luke pulled his pants and boxers up as quickly as possible, his hands shaking. He fled the office without a word, his face burning, and vowed never to miss a tutorial—or neglect his studies—again.

——

When Luke walked through the front door that evening, he immediately froze. His mother was sitting in her usual chair in the living room, her wooden hairbrush resting on her lap. Her expression was unreadable, but the tight grip on the hairbrush made her intentions clear.

“Luke,” she said, her voice calm but laced with authority. “We need to have a conversation.”

His stomach dropped. He didn’t even bother trying to feign innocence. “Mom, please—I already got punished at school! Professor Ellis—she…”

“I know all about what happened,” Mrs. Carter interrupted. “She called me this afternoon. She told me how you neglected your reading, how she had to punish you in her office, and how you were sent to the corner after your spanking.”

Luke’s face burned with shame. At least she hadn’t mentioned his… accident. He avoided her gaze and mumbled, “I’ve already been punished, Mom. Isn’t that enough?”

Mrs. Carter’s eyes narrowed. “Not nearly. Spanked at school, spanked at home. That’s the way it works, Luke. I’m not about to let this slide.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but the icy look in her eyes silenced him. “How long was your spanking at school?” she asked.

Luke hesitated, then muttered, “Five minutes.”

Mrs. Carter nodded and pulled out her phone, setting the timer. “Then you’ll get five minutes here, too. And I promise, I’ll make sure every single second counts.”

Luke’s eyes widened, tears already forming. “Mom, please, no! I’ve learned my lesson—I promise!”

“Clearly not,” she said sternly. “If you had, I wouldn’t be sitting here with this hairbrush. Pants down, Luke. Now.”

Trembling, Luke reluctantly unbuttoned his pants and lowered them along with his boxers, exposing his already tender, red bottom. He sniffled as Mrs. Carter gestured for him to come closer.

“Over my knee,” she commanded.

With his face burning, Luke draped himself across her lap, his bare bottom positioned perfectly for the punishment to come. Mrs. Carter adjusted him slightly, then picked up the hairbrush.

“Your professor made sure you were disciplined for your poor behavior,” she said, raising the hairbrush. “And now, I’m making sure you learn to never neglect your responsibilities again.”

The first swat landed with a sharp crack, and Luke yelped, his legs kicking instinctively. The spanking was relentless, each swat as firm and stinging as the last. Mrs. Carter kept a steady rhythm, her hand gripping his waist to keep him in place.

“Mom, please!” Luke sobbed. “I’m sorry! I’ll do better! Please stop!”

“I’ll stop when the timer says I’m done,” she replied coldly, delivering another series of swats to the center of his bottom. “You will take this punishment, Luke, and you will remember it the next time you think about slacking off.”

Midway through, the front door opened, and Mr. Carter stepped inside, pausing mid-step at the sight before him. His son, sprawled over his wife’s lap, was crying like a child, his bare bottom bright red from the relentless spanking.

“Linda,” he said awkwardly, setting his briefcase down. “What’s going on here?”

“What’s going on,” Mrs. Carter said without pausing her rhythm, “is that your son is being disciplined for neglecting his responsibilities. His professor called me earlier today and informed me of his behavior, so I’m making sure he understands the consequences.”

Mr. Carter winced, glancing at Luke, who was sobbing uncontrollably. “You’ve made your point, Linda. Maybe—”

“I’ll decide when I’ve made my point,” she snapped, her focus never leaving Luke’s bright red backside. “This isn’t about being lenient. It’s about making sure he remembers this.”

Mr. Carter sighed and stepped back, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. He watched in silence as his wife continued, the crack of the hairbrush punctuated by Luke’s cries and pleas for mercy.

When the timer finally beeped, Mrs. Carter delivered one last, sharp swat before setting the hairbrush aside. “Stand up,” she ordered.

Luke scrambled to his feet, quickly pulling his pants and boxers up as tears streamed down his face. He stood there, sniffling and avoiding his parents’ gazes.

“Corner,” Mrs. Carter said, pointing to the far side of the room. “Pants and boxers down again, just like at school. You’ll stand there until I say otherwise.”

Luke hesitated, his humiliation mounting, but the look on his mother’s face left no room for argument. With shaking hands, he lowered his pants and boxers again and shuffled to the corner, pressing his forehead against the wall.

Mrs. Carter turned to her husband. “He’ll stay there until I feel he’s had enough time to think about his actions.”

Mr. Carter sighed again, his expression conflicted. “Linda, don’t you think this is a bit much?”

“It’s what he needs,” she said firmly, glancing at Luke’s trembling figure. “If we let him get away with this, he’ll never take his responsibilities seriously. He’s learning, Mark. The hard way, but he’s learning.”

Mr. Carter said nothing, letting the tension settle in the room as Luke stood silently in the corner, his blazing cheeks on full display, vowing once again to never give his mother—or his professor—any reason to punish him again.

——

The living room was tense as Luke stood in the corner, his pants and boxers pooled around his ankles, his forehead pressed against the wall. He sniffled quietly, his bottom throbbing, trying to endure the excruciating humiliation of his timeout. Behind him, his parents exchanged heated glances, his mother seated with her hairbrush still in hand, and his father growing visibly uncomfortable.

Finally, Mr. Carter broke the silence, stepping forward and crossing his arms. “That’s enough, Linda. He’s had his punishment. Let him pull up his pants and go upstairs.”

Mrs. Carter’s head snapped toward her husband, her eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”

“I said that’s enough,” Mr. Carter repeated firmly, motioning toward Luke. “He’s already been spanked twice today. Keeping him standing there like this is overkill. Let him pull his pants up and go.”

Luke’s ears perked up slightly at his father’s words, but he didn’t dare turn around. His mother, however, rose to her feet, her expression colder than ever.

“You think this is overkill?” she asked sharply, stepping closer to her husband. “Mark, do you know why Luke is in this position in the first place? Because he neglected his responsibilities, forged a signature, and didn’t take his punishment seriously. He needs this lesson, and you undermining me right now isn’t helping.”

Mr. Carter held his ground. “I’m not saying he didn’t deserve to be punished, but you’re dragging it out. He’s learned his lesson. Let the boy go.”

Mrs. Carter’s lips pressed into a thin line, and she crossed her arms, the hairbrush still clutched tightly in her hand. “So you think you know better than me when it comes to discipline?”

“I’m saying this has gone far enough,” Mr. Carter said, his voice firm but strained. “Let him go upstairs, Linda.”

For a moment, silence hung heavy in the room. Then Mrs. Carter took a step forward, her voice icy. “If you think I’m being too harsh, Mark, perhaps you need a reminder of what discipline looks like. Luke, don’t move an inch.”

Luke froze, too terrified to react. He listened as his mother turned her attention fully to his father.

“Linda, what are you doing?” Mr. Carter asked, backing up slightly as she approached him with the hairbrush.

“You’re undermining me in my own house,” she said sharply. “And you’re teaching Luke that he can get away with things if he has someone to argue his case. That ends right now.”

“Linda, come on, this is ridiculous,” Mr. Carter protested, but his wife was having none of it. She grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward the chair with a strength that surprised him.

“Pants and undies down, Mark. You know the drill.” she ordered, sitting back down and patting her lap.

“Linda, I’m not—”

“Pants. Down. Now,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Realizing he was out of options, Mr. Carter sighed heavily and unbuckled his belt, his face turning red. He hesitated but ultimately lowered his pants and boxers, stepping closer to her.

Mrs. Carter wasted no time. She guided him over her lap, positioning him just as she had positioned Luke earlier. “You’re going to learn, Mark, that when I say something, I mean it.”

The hairbrush came down with a loud crack, and Mr. Carter let out a surprised yelp. Luke flinched at the sound, mortified to hear his father being spanked just feet away.

“You will support me in disciplining Luke,” Mrs. Carter said, punctuating each word with a sharp swat. “And you will never undermine my authority again. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Linda!” Mr. Carter yelped, his voice pained. “I’m sorry! I’ll support you!”

Mrs. Carter continued for several more swats before finally setting the hairbrush aside. “Good. Now stand up.”

Mr. Carter scrambled to his feet, his face flushed.

“Now,” Mrs. Carter said, pointing to the corner opposite Luke, “you can stand there and think about your actions.”

“Linda—” he began, but her icy glare silenced him. Reluctantly, he shuffled to the corner, his head hanging.

“Luke,” Mrs. Carter said, her voice calm again, “you’ll stay where you are until I tell you otherwise. Both of you can use this time to reflect on the importance of discipline and respect.”

Luke sniffled, his face burning as he realized his father was now sharing his humiliation. The room fell silent again, save for the occasional sound of shuffling feet as the two men stood in their respective corners, both learning firsthand what it meant to cross Mrs. Carter.

——

The silence in the living room was tense, broken only by the occasional sniffle from Luke or the shuffling of feet from Mr. Carter in his corner. They dared not look at each other, each caught in their own whirlwind of shame and discomfort. But the atmosphere shifted when Linda Carter stood up, dusting off her hands as if finishing one task and preparing for another.

“Stay where you are,” she said firmly, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

Luke and Mr. Carter froze, their ears perking up as they heard her footsteps retreating toward the basement stairs. Neither dared to turn or even speak, though the sound of the basement door opening and Linda descending the steps sent a shiver through both of them.

Minutes later, the sound of her ascending footsteps echoed back up. When she re-entered the living room, Luke chanced a furtive glance over his shoulder and immediately regretted it. In her hands was an old leather strap, darkened by years of use, and a small bottle of strap oil. His stomach flipped, and he turned back to the wall, trembling.

Linda Carter sat in the living room, her expression calm yet commanding, as she unscrewed the cap of the strap oil. The rich scent of leather mixed with the faint tang of the oil as she poured a small amount onto a cloth and began methodically working it into the worn leather strap. Each motion was deliberate, the quiet sound of the oil being absorbed by the leather filling the otherwise tense room.

“Turn around and face me,” she said firmly, her voice breaking the silence. “Hands on your heads.”

Mark and Luke hesitated for only a moment, then obeyed, turning to face her. Both men’s pants and underwear were pooled at their ankles, leaving them completely exposed from the waist down. Their hands rose slowly to their heads, and their faces burned with humiliation as they stood before her.

Linda continued to work the oil into the strap, her movements calm and precise. She didn’t glance up at them, letting the weight of their vulnerability settle over them like a heavy blanket. “I want you both to watch,” she said without looking up. “The two of you need to understand exactly what’s coming—and why.”

Mark and Luke reluctantly shifted their gaze to the strap in her hands. The gleaming leather seemed almost alive under the soft light of the room, and each stroke of the oil made it look more intimidating. But as they stood there, their embarrassment only grew, their exposed state impossible to ignore.

Out of the corner of his eye, Luke couldn’t help but glance at his father, his curiosity and mortification wrestling with each other. He caught sight of his dad’s genitals, noticing with dismay how similar they were to his own. The sight made his stomach twist, and he quickly looked away, his cheeks flushing even deeper.

Mark, too, had stolen a furtive glance at his son, though the moment their eyes almost met, he jerked his head back toward the strap, swallowing hard. This is unbearable, he thought, his ears burning with shame. The situation felt surreal—being stripped, exposed, and made to stand next to his son while Linda prepared to deliver punishment.

Linda, of course, noticed the flickers of movement, though she said nothing at first, letting the full weight of their embarrassment build. Finally, she paused her work on the strap and looked up at them, her eyes sharp.

“Something interesting to look at?” she asked pointedly, her voice carrying a calm but unmistakable authority.

Both Mark and Luke stammered, their heads shaking quickly as they avoided her gaze. “N-no, ma’am,” Luke managed to squeak, while Mark cleared his throat, his voice tight. “No, Linda.”

“Good,” she said, her tone cutting. “You should be focusing on what’s about to happen—and on how to avoid finding yourselves in this position again.”

She held up the strap, letting the light catch the gleaming, oiled leather. “This is going to hurt,” she said matter-of-factly, her eyes sweeping over both of them. “And it should. The two of you earned this, and I intend to make sure the lesson sticks.”

Luke and Mark nodded quickly, their hands still firmly on their heads as they stared at the strap. The awkward silence lingered as Linda stood, her presence radiating authority, and gestured to the back of the couch.

“Back of the couch. Bend over,” she commanded. “Side by side. Hands on the cushions.”

As the two shuffled into position, their faces burning with embarrassment, the reality of what was about to happen set in fully. The strap was ready, and Linda was determined to ensure neither of them would forget this night anytime soon.

“This strap,” Linda began, her voice calm but stern, “has been sitting unused for far too long. But tonight, it’s going to remind both of you what happens when discipline isn’t taken seriously.”

Luke gulped audibly, and Mr. Carter shifted uncomfortably.

Linda positioned herself behind them, the strap in her hand. “You’ll both receive the same punishment,” she said. “This is about accountability, respect, and responsibility. You’ll learn to take discipline seriously, and you’ll learn it together.”

With that, she raised the strap and brought it down with a sharp CRACK across Luke’s bottom. He yelped, his body jerking forward as the sting spread across his skin.

“Stay in position,” Linda ordered, moving to her husband. She raised the strap again and delivered an equally sharp swat to Mr. Carter’s backside. He grunted, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the cushions tightly.

Linda continued, alternating between the two, the strap landing with precise, stinging force. Each swat was firm and deliberate, the leather leaving bright red stripes in its wake. Luke squirmed and cried out, his tears falling freely, while Mr. Carter gritted his teeth, his face twisted in pain and humiliation.

“You will both remember this,” Linda said, her voice steady even as the strap cracked against their skin. “Luke, for neglecting your responsibilities. Mark, for undermining me. This is what happens when you cross the line.”

As the strapping continued, the room filled with the sharp crack of leather meeting flesh, mingled with Luke’s sobs and Mark’s pained grunts. Both men struggled to maintain their positions, gripping the couch cushions as tightly as they could, but the fiery sting across their bottoms made staying still almost impossible.

Luke’s hips wriggled with each swat, his body instinctively trying to escape the relentless burn. The strap’s oiled surface bit into his already tender skin, and he could feel the heat radiating across his backside. The sting was sharp and unyielding, leaving him gasping and kicking slightly after every blow.

Mark wasn’t faring much better. Though he tried to maintain his composure, his movements betrayed him. Each time the strap landed on his reddened flesh, his hips jerked, brushing against Luke’s in their shared attempt to find relief. The contact only added to the awkwardness, but neither man could control their reactions.

Linda noticed their wriggling and the way their hips occasionally bumped together as they squirmed in unison. She raised an eyebrow but remained focused, her voice cutting through the room. “Stay still,” she commanded firmly, delivering another hard swat to Luke’s bottom.

“Ahh! I’m trying!” Luke cried, his voice muffled by the couch cushions as his legs kicked out slightly.

“And you, Mark,” Linda said, turning her attention to her husband. The strap came down with another resounding CRACK, making him grunt and shift uncomfortably. “Set an example for your son—or is staying still too much for you to handle?”

“I’m… I’m trying, Linda,” Mark gritted out, his knuckles white as he gripped the couch. But his hips betrayed him, jerking around once again and brushing against Luke’s side.

The two men, bent over side by side, continued to squirm as the strapping went on, their movements uncoordinated and desperate. Luke’s smaller frame twisted and wriggled with each swat, while Mark’s larger build made his jerks more forceful, causing their hips to brush together repeatedly. Both were acutely aware of the awkward contact, but the pain overpowered their embarrassment, leaving them focused only on enduring the punishment.

Linda paused for a moment, letting the strap hang at her side as she surveyed her work. Both men’s bottoms were an angry, glowing red, with vivid stripes crisscrossing their skin. Their wriggling had only amplified the heat of the spanking, and she could see the sweat glistening on their backs.

“You’re both squirming like children,” she remarked, her tone sharp but calm. “Perhaps you need a reminder of why you’re here.”

She stepped closer, the strap gleaming in her hand. “Luke, your wriggling tells me you’re still not taking this seriously. And Mark, if you can’t set an example for your son, then I’ll just have to make it clearer for both of you.”

With renewed determination, Linda raised the strap once more, delivering a fresh round of sharp, stinging swats to their already tender skin. Both Luke and Mark cried out, their bodies writhing even more as the punishment reached its peak.

By the time she finally stopped, both men were trembling, their chests heaving as they clung to the couch for support. The heat on their bottoms was unbearable, and their shame was only compounded by the awkward contact their squirming had caused.

Linda set the strap aside, crossing her arms as she looked down at them. “Let that be a lesson,” she said firmly. “And remember, the strap will be ready anytime either of you forgets what’s expected in this household. Now, leave your pants down and stand up,” she ordered.

The two of them scrambled to obey. They avoided looking at each other, their faces red and wet with tears.

“Luke,” Linda said, pointing to the corner, “back to your spot. You’re finishing your timeout.”

Luke sniffled and shuffled back to the corner, his head hanging.

“And you, Mark,” she continued, turning to her husband. “You’ll stand in the opposite corner until I decide you’ve had enough time to think about your actions.”

Mr. Carter hesitated for a moment, then nodded silently and moved to the other corner, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

Linda sat back down, the strap resting on the arm of her chair, and picked up a magazine. “Maybe now,” she said, flipping through the pages, “you’ll both learn to take me seriously.”

——

When the timer on her phone finally beeped, Linda set aside her magazine and looked up at her two chastened charges, still standing in their respective corners with their pants and boxers pooled around their ankles. Both Luke and Mark shifted uncomfortably, their faces burning with shame.

“All right,” Linda said briskly, “out of the corners. Both of you. Come here, hands on your heads.”

Luke and Mark hesitated, but the sharp tone in her voice made it clear she wasn’t in the mood for any resistance. Slowly, they shuffled out of the corners, their faces red and tear-streaked, their hands raised and resting on their heads as they stood side by side in front of her. Their bare genitals were fully exposed, and the humiliation was almost unbearable.

Linda took her time looking them over, her expression stern but composed. The silence stretched on, heightening their discomfort, before she finally spoke.

“Look at the two of you,” she said, shaking her head. “Father and son, standing here side by side, pants around your ankles, freshly punished. And frankly,” she added with a dry tone, “it’s almost uncanny how similar you look in this position.”

Linda crossed her arms, her sharp gaze flickering between her husband and son as they stood side by side, hands on their heads, their faces red with shame and their bare genitals fully exposed. She tapped her foot for a moment, then leaned back slightly, studying them with a critical eye.

“Well,” she said, her voice calm but pointed, “I can’t help but notice something… striking about the two of you.”

Luke’s stomach sank, and Mark shifted uneasily, but neither dared to lower their hands or speak.

“Is it just me,” she continued, her tone light but laced with authority, “or are your… parts remarkably similar? Honestly, it’s almost uncanny. The shape, the size, even the way they hang—identical.” She gestured vaguely, her words landing with a weight that made both men squirm in mortification.

Luke’s face burned as he bit his lip, his eyes welling with fresh tears. “Mom, please,” he whispered, his voice trembling.

Mark, equally humiliated, cleared his throat, his eyes fixed firmly on the carpet. “Linda, is this really necessary?”

Linda raised an eyebrow, her gaze hardening. “Oh, it’s absolutely necessary. I think the two of you need to hear this. It’s not often I have you standing here like this, and it’s a good moment to drive the point home. You’re more alike than either of you probably wants to admit—stubborn, irresponsible, and clearly in need of firm discipline. And now, as I see, even in your… physical traits, you share an almost laughable resemblance.”

Luke let out a small whimper, while Mark shifted uncomfortably, his hands tightening on the top of his head.

Linda stepped closer, her voice lowering to a sharp, almost maternal tone. “Maybe this little comparison will remind you both that no matter how old you are, there’s always someone above you to keep you in line. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Luke mumbled, his voice barely audible.

“Yes, Linda,” Mark said, his tone subdued.

“Good,” Linda said firmly. “I expect better from both of you moving forward. Luke, I want your assignments completed on time, your tutorials attended, and your grades improving. Mark, I expect your full support when it comes to discipline in this household. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” they both echoed, their voices heavy with shame.

Linda stood, placing her hands on her hips as she looked them over one last time. “All right. Pull your pants up and go to your rooms. I don’t want to see or hear from either of you for the rest of the night. Reflect on what happened here, and let it motivate you to do better.”

Luke and Mark scrambled to obey, fumbling with their pants and boxers before shuffling out of the room, their heads hanging low. As they disappeared upstairs, Linda sat back down, a satisfied expression on her face.

“Sometimes,” she muttered to herself, picking up her magazine again, “it takes a firm hand to keep this household in order.”