Jason 3


by Anonymous

Jason really does exist and yes his mum slapped him quite hard when we were out at the shops today. She is a friend of mine. The stick also exists and hangs in the boys bedroom. Jason is not his real name. He is very, very cute though.

The story continues.

Some days later Mary asked me to visit and stay for a meal with her. I gladly accepted the invitation keen to see Jason again. I hoped that he had managed to avoid that stick. A boy of such beauty should not be slapped on the face and I hoped that an opportunity might present itself for me to say so to Mary. Of course I did not want to end the relationship which had just started by upsetting her with my views on child discipline. I have always been a single guy buy thoughts of a ready made family had started to occur to me whan I had first seen Jason.

I bought most of the food with me, after checking that it was ok with Mary and would not upset her. I also bought two samll dolls for the girls and a new action man for Jaon. I hoped it would not offend Mary and it did not. The children were delighted with their presents and I told Jason that I would help to dress his action man with him after his supper. He took the new present to his room. I hoped that by playing with his new toy in his room I would get a closer look at what was clealy his mothers preferred implement of punishment.

When I arrived I saw that the three kids were already eating thier supper. Mary had clearly planned for them to be out of the way and in bed before we ate. Jason was complaining about the food he had been given. Not the usual stuff about greens but apparently I did not like his french fries, they were the wrong sort as far as I could make out from his general complaining.

After a while and plainly exasberated Mary looked at the older girl and said''go and fetch Jason's stick now''. Jason immediately started to cry and put his knife and fork down. The family seemed oblivioue to my presence at that point. Their internal life had taken over. The older girl ran out of the room and quickly returned with the stick I had seen in the boys room. I was surprised that Mary was doing this with me in the house.

The older of the tewo girls returned to her seta and both duaghters exchanged glances with one another and then looked at me.

'Come here now' Mary ordered a still crying Jason. The boy obeyed and walked to his mum who was now seated on the worn out sofa. Mary man-handled the boy forcing him to lie across her knee. As he went over he looked across at me through tears, a kind of hang-dog 'please sop her' expression which made me unhappy. I wanted to ask her not to hit Jason but at the same time I was excited about the prospect of witnessing a real life spanking. Mary hitched Jasons shorts up his back. They were almost at the middle of his neck before his tiny round buttocks were nicely defined. This pulling up of the shorts was necessary so that she could get a decent aim at the small target and not hit his back I guesssed.

Mary whacked the stick onto the boys small bottom hard and Jason screamed out. I winced at the sound and felt for the child. She whacked him again.

That must have hurt like hell, I thought as I felt for the small boy, not yet five years old.

A third time Mary slapped the boys bottom with the firm stick. Jason was bawling like the baby he almost still was.

Mary pulled the boy off her lap and tigged at his small hand. She marched him off upstairs and the girls told nme that he would now be given a bath and be out to bed. The girls sniggered and carried on tipping tomato ketchup on the french fries which their brother had left, and began eating them. They were used to witnessing this form of discipline being inflicted on their brother, I assumed. We could hear Jason still crying as he was marched up the stairs for his bath.

The action man would be without his clothes that evening.


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