My Babysitter Melissa by Randy. This story was one of the first I ever read that involved early bedtimes and pyjama spankings

1973 was a year I still remember, I turned fourteen in August. And my parents found a new babysitter named Melissa. With a very busy social schedule, they were often out two or even three weeks a night at dinner parties, the theatre, or the symphony

She was sixteen when mum hired her, she was the daughter of our local vicar and for the past year, she had worked as the assistant teacher at my Sunday School, supervising fifteen children aged eleven to fifteen.

She was also very pretty. At five foot seven, she was four inches taller than me and extremely curvy, which made her look very grown up in my eyes. The fact that she was in charge of me every Sunday for an hour only added to her appeal. So did her regular habit of keeping order threatening unruly children with a spanking. Fortunately, she was not allowed to make good on her threats. All discipline was administered by the Sunday School director, Mrs Clara Worthington.

Mrs Worthington was a kindly woman in her late fifties who left most of the demanding work of supervising the children to Melissa. Mrs Worthington preferred to stay in her office just off the main school room where she could keep an eye on things. As Mrs Worthington's assistant, Melissa was instructed to give only one warning to serious troublemakers. Repeat transgressors were promptly sent to Mrs Worthington for discipline and that always meant a spanking. Mrs Worthing spanked for disobedience, bad language, and any other offence Melissa deemed sufficiently serious.

As one of the more rambunctious children, I ended up in Mrs Worthington's office about once every month."You have been very, very naughty, little boy. Do you know how Mrs Worthington handles bad little boys? Do you? She bares their bottoms and gives them sound spankings. And that's exactly what you're going to get in a few minutes, young man, a sound spanking on your naughty bottom. Do you understand?"

No scolding ever lasted more than a few minutes. And toward the end, she would begin unfastening the boy's belt and taking down his shorts (part of our Sunday School uniform). Once these were at his ankles, she would pull him over her lap and adjust him to the best position - something which took another thirty seconds or more. If a child wasn't crying by the time his shorts were taken down or her dress raised, most began crying audibly when put over her lap or when their bottoms were finally bared.

As my bottom was bared, I felt an extra surge of juvenile helplessness and dependency as if I were still a toddler. Since I had been spanked regularly for misbehaviour since I was young, each spanking invariably triggered memories of much earlier punishments. No wonder the baring of my bottom made me feel so "naughty". Yet even while I felt terribly apprehensive, I also felt strangely safe and in an equally childish way. With my feet waving in the air, my head near the floor, and my bottom bare and all too vulnerable, I felt like I had given up control of my body to the very capable hands of an older, maternal figure who was about to teach me a lesson.

While I imagine I wasn't the only fourteen-year-old Sunday School boy to imagine getting a spanking from Melissa, such thoughts quickly became the centre of my fantasy life in and outside of Sunday School. The other women who spanked me (and the many who spanked me in my daydreams) all gave way in my imagination to Melissa. She was much younger than my mum or Mrs Bailey yet still older than me. She was also terribly sexy even though my fourteen-year-old consciousness had only the vaguest sense of what "sexy" meant. At that age, it was mostly felt as an overwhelming crush which I did little to conceal in the hopes my affections, once noticed, would somehow be returned.

Even if spankings hadn't intrigued me, I would have been thrilled when Melissa scolded me. In hindsight, I'm sure I got into more mischief just to provoke attention from her, regardless of what kind of attention that might be. In my little boy imagination, I was convinced she would somehow admire my mischief as a sign of independence and cleverness. She would recognise how special I was compared to the other children.

Since I knew Melissa wasn't allowed to spank, I would often misbehave a little in Sunday School to draw out warnings without overstepping the fine line and earning a trip to Mrs Worthington.

It was through Sunday School that my mother ended up hiring Melissa to babysit for me. Melissa caught me using a dirty word, Mrs Worthington reported the matter to my mother when she came later to pick me up. Actually, she had Melissa tell mummy exactly what had happened before adding an account of my spanking. All of the other children had left by then and it was just the four of us in Mrs Worthington's office. I found myself looking at the ground with a very red face throughout the conversation. After listening to Melissa and Mrs Worthington, mummy said,

"I want to thank both of you for responding so promptly to this kind of behaviour which Danny knows is completely unacceptable. One of my strictest rules at home is the rule against foul language. It's even more serious to use such language in church. Danny is going to get another sound spanking on his bare bottom as soon as he gets home. Do you understand me, young man? You promised me last month you wouldn't use bad language again, didn't you? Apparently, the spanking you got then didn't teach you to mind mummy, did it? You're going to learn another lesson young man, just you wait. If Danny ever uses such language again in Sunday School, I want you to take down his shorts and underpants and spank him right in front of the other children."

"An excellent idea, Betty. I'm sure a little embarrassment would help Danny learn a good lesson. He's getting to that age when boys hate to have their bottoms bared in front of others. Maybe I should let Melissa spank him next time. From what the mothers of the other Sunday School children tell me, Melissa is quite capable in that department as a babysitter."

"Come to think of it, Clara, I've heard the same thing. And everyone tells me how well Melissa handles the children at Sunday School. It just so happens that my husband and I are looking for a new babysitter. Melissa, do you think you might be interested in babysitting for Danny a few times this coming week?"

"Of course, Mrs. Richardson," Melissa replied. "I'm always happy to earn a little extra money. When would you like me to sit?"

Thus the object of my most intense, boyish affections moved from supervising me in a group every Sunday to a much more intimate, one-on-one situation as my new babysitter. Little did my mother know she had fulfilled my wildest hopes.

Given my feelings for Melissa, it's easy to see why I vividly remember the first night she sat for me. As with all new babysitters, the evening began with a long list of instructions from mum. She was thorough if anything. There were reminders about my meal times, homework duties, television privileges, room straightening chores, teeth brushing, and bedtime.

I was a little embarrassed when Melissa was told my current bedtime was 7.30, very early for a fourteen-year-old I know but mum explained to her about my bad behaviour at the wedding so she understood why I was also wearing my pyjamas at 6 pm.

So naturally, there were equally thorough instructions on matters of discipline. I always had to be present for these in case any questions arose and mum always made sure I was ready for bed in my pyjamas as mum also knew I would behave better if I was pyjama clad when she went over disciplinary matters with my babysitter.

"Melissa, Danny has to have his room spic and span by his bedtime at 7:30. Once lights are out, he is to stay in bed. Make sure you check on him every half hour until he is asleep. He sometimes tries to sneak out of bed or read comics with a flashlight under the covers. If he doesn't follow your instructions and do as he's told, don't hesitate to give him a good spanking. Your mum tells me you have lots of experience babysitting for your two younger brothers and that you know how to handle naughty children."

"Yes, Mrs Richardson, I know exactly how to take care of bad boys." As she said, "bad boys" she turned and smiled at me causing my face to go red.

"Splendid, Melissa. I think you'll find Danny is usually very well behaved but that's partly because he knows exactly what to expect when he doesn't mind. Discipline without consistency is just not discipline. You probably understand that from your own home because your mother and I think alike on that score."

At the time, I briefly wondered why Melissa blushed a little at mum's words. But there was little time for such thoughts as the discussion immediately returned to my discipline.

"Melissa, I always give Danny one warning if he isn't doing his chores on time and that usually works. He knows I will check on him a little later. If he fails to do things on time or to obey your instructions, a session over your knee will straighten him out quickly. Sometimes, that's the only way to get his full and undivided attention. Consistency is essential to proper child raising and discipline is the basis of consistency. As I said to you earlier on the phone, we're looking for a regular babysitter. I'm afraid Danny is one of those boys who will need babysitting for a long time yet.

"Since I need you to watch him three times this week, this can be a trial run to see how you work out. If all goes well, you can be Danny's new regular sitter. We usually need someone about two nights a week and we can usually provide advance warning. As you know, I also pay good wages for babysitting.”

Melissa smiled at me as she replied to mum, "I'm sure Danny and I will get along just fine, from what I've observed in Sunday School, it's clear Danny will be needing close supervision for quite some time. He's still a very much a little boy in many ways, isn't he?"

"He certainly is, Melissa. I'm glad to see how observant you are. You remind me in many ways of your very capable mother. If my instincts are correct, I think you are going to be the answer to my prayers. Oh, one more thing, Melissa. After Danny gets a spanking, all is forgiven. A punishment works best if it has a clear ending so a youngster can put his misbehaviour behind him. That why I always give him a good hug afterwards. He should also promise to try and behave better in the future. Hugs and a cookie help Danny understand how discipline is a natural part of any a loving household."

Once again, Melissa quickly agreed with my mother. My mind began turning a little until Melissa interrupted my thoughts.

"Enjoy your dinner party, Mrs Richardson. I'll take good care of Danny and make sure he stays on his best behaviour. Won't you, young man?"

I gulped and nodded.

"Wonderful, Melissa. You be good, Danny, and make sure you behave for Melissa, mummy will be back later after you're in beddy-byes but I'll check on you when I come in."

Mum paused to bend and kiss me goodbye with a long, loving look in my eyes before tousling my hair.

Melissa and I went back into the kitchen where we ate dinner and given the detailed instructions my mother had issued on matters of discipline and my history with Melissa in Sunday School, the conversation soon turned to punishments.

I asked her innocently what sort of mischief her charges had gotten into. With a smile, she described all sorts of boyish games and pranks. She then asked me how often I misbehaved and what I did. And that, finally, led to the question which broke the ice. Fortunately, Melissa let me off the hook by asking it herself.

"Danny, how often do you get spanked?"

"Oh ... I suppose once or twice a week, except in the summer when mummy says I get into more trouble because I have more free time."

Now it was my turn to blush though my momentary embarrassment did not prevent me from forging on.

"Melissa, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course, what is it?"

"Have you ever spanked children while you were babysitting?"

"Why Danny, what a silly question. All babysitters spank when necessary. Haven't your other babysitters put you over their knee when you needed it?"

"No, you’re the first babysitter mum has given permission to spank me. Melissa tilted her head as she spoke

“Some children are naughtier and need more frequent discipline, you remind me of a boy I sat for last year on Thursday nights who earned rather frequent spankings. I suspect his mummy wasn't giving him the discipline he needed. Other boys are better behaved and only need their bottoms warmed occasionally."

"Really, Melissa ... you spanked him almost every time you sat for him?"

"That's right, Danny. He was just about your age, and just as cute too, especially when he was standing in the corner with his pyjama bottoms at half mast."

"You made him stand in the corner and spanked him on the bare bottom?"

"Why Danny .... how else does one spank? The good Lord gave children padding in their bottoms so they could be well smacked without lasting harm. Spankings are a childish punishment and bare bottoms are an important reminder of how boys and girls get treated when they act like naughty children. Doesn't your mummy spank you on your bottom?"

Though I blushed, I also felt a surge of excitement as I replied, "Yes, she does." Without even realising what I was doing, I reached down under the table with both hands and rubbed my bottom through my pyjamas as though remembering one of mummy's spankings.

"Does she use corner time too?"

"Sometimes.” I hesitantly replied.

Then Melissa added something out of the blue which made my heart pound. "You know, Danny, if you really want to get some idea of how I spank naughty boys, I could also give you a play spanking. Although it wouldn't hurt, it would give you a good idea of what to expect if you misbehave. Would you like a play spanking?"

"Well ... I ... uh ... I uh ... really? You promise it wouldn't hurt?"

"Cross my heart, Danny. Besides, from what I see of your behaviour in Sunday School, you'll be going over my lap soon enough for the real thing."

"Well ... if you promise it won't hurt ..."

Melissa suddenly took on suddenly mock-serious tone. "Listen here, young Danny, it's time you learned a good lesson from me about how I handle naughty children. Come with me right now".

She grabbed my arm firmly and led me downstairs into the den and over to a straight-backed chair which stood against the wall.

Playing my part I begged and put up a mock struggle. "No please, Melissa, don't spank me .. please ... I'll be a good boy, I promise".

"I'll believe those promises only after I see a red bottom over my lap, young man. Now stop struggling right this instant if you know what's good for you. You are going to get a good spanking from me right now and there is nothing you can do about it."

To reinforce her point and urge me along, Melissa punctuated her remarks with a series of solid smacks through my pyjamas. As soon as I felt her hand, all resistance seemed to vanish and I allowed myself to be marched downstairs and over to a chair. The next thing I knew, she had sat down and put over her knee.

"Now let's get these pyjamas down, shall we, once I have warmed you up I like to get to the bare bottom of things and you will be no exception, young man. Do you understand? Bad ... bad ... bad ... bad Danny."

Smack Smack Smack.

"You bad, bad, bad little boy. You aren't going anywhere until you've been well spanked. Do you understand me?"

Smack Smack Smack. Smack Smack

"Yes, Melissa, please don't spank me anymore... please"

"You can kick and cry all you want but Melissa isn't going to stop until you've learned a good lesson."

Smack Smack Smack.

On and on she scolded and spanked just hard enough to give me some idea of what the real thing would be like. My bottom began to feel very warm.

At the same time, my little penis hardened and pushed against her bare thighs with each spank. Fortunately, she didn't seem the least bothered by this and continued to scold and spank me and I wriggled and rubbed. It wasn't long before I felt like the luckiest little boy in the world lying over the lap of my babysitter getting a play spanking that went on and on and on.

Finally, after about fifteen minutes, she took down my briefs and assessed the damage on my bottom by slowly going over every inch of my cheeks with her right hand. Of course, I continued to "cry and beg” not to be spanked on the bare all the while enjoying the feel of my squirming and pressing directly against her.

By then, I was in a dizzy rapture, conscious of a glowing warmth which seemed to encircle my loins and bottom while spreading up along my torso and down my legs. I guess I was in some sort of boy heaven where all things are possible.

"Please, I promise I'll be a good boy. Melissa... I'll be a good little boy... please don't spank me on my bare bottom," I cried with a tone which managed to mix urgency with a taunting quality.

Smack Smack. Smack. Smack Smack

"You're not going anywhere, young man until I give this cute bottom of yours a good spanking. Cry and kick and struggle all you want but you are staying put until Melissa gives you the discipline you need. You are obviously someone who needs lots of discipline and I will be all too happy to provide it. If I was your mummy, I'd put to bed each night with a good spanking. Little boys sleep much better with a warm bottom, don't they?"

Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack

"I suppose so, mummy... I mean Melissa. I wish you really were my mummy, Melissa. Will you really spank me if I am naughty?"

Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack

"You had better believe so Danny."

Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack

By then I was in a real rapture, half crying, half moaning as I openly wriggled on her thighs as shamelessly as a little child. My bottom rose slightly as if greeting her hand and fell in a thrust against her soft legs.

Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack

"I think I'm going to enjoy sitting for you, Danny. And since you obviously like play spankings so much, I'd say you're going to need another one tomorrow night when I come back. Of course, this will have to be our secret, Danny, won't it, young man?"

Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack

"Of course, Melissa. I swear I won't ever tell anyone."

Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack

"You'd better not. I'd probably be fired as your babysitter and I might get a spanking myself from my mother."

Smack Smack Smack

"Really, Melissa, you still get spanked?"

Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack

"Sometimes, Danny, but that's another story? I think you'd better concentrate on your own punishment?"

Smack Smack Smack Smack Smack

"Yes, Melissa".

Smack Smack Smack

True to her word, Melissa spanked me gently. As if to compensate, she also spanked for what seemed about a half hour. Neither of us seemed in any hurry to end things. In the end, my bottom was red and very tingly. Finally, Melissa stood me on my feet ignoring how stiff I was in front and gave me a long hug. I hugged back as if there was no tomorrow. I guess I loved Melissa more intensely at that moment than ever. It was as if my love had finally been consummated.

I was even proud of my condition and glad that she wasn't embarrassed by it. I also hugged her to prolong the sensation of pressing against her soft, heavy breasts which seemed to embrace my chest in return.

To comfort me more, Melissa kissed the side of my face, told me what a good boy I was, and stroked by bottom repeatedly with her right hand. She then reminded me I was still liable for a real spanking if I didn't behave for the rest of the evening.

After she released me and pulled my pyjamas back up, she gave me permission to watch TV until 7.15 after which she told me I was to brush my teeth and go up to my bedroom. She said she would do homework in the living room and would come upstairs to check on me and read me a story.

With a final smack to my bottom, Melissa turned on the TV and disappeared to do her homework.