This story was based on an image crafted by Tua / Iod :
https://animeotk.com/gallery/showpho...-suit/cat/1059
KBirk crafted his own version :
https://animeotk.com/gallery/showphoto.php?photo=88241
Once upon a time, in a quaint little Ocean Port town during the 1920s, there were two adorable brothers named Russel and Henry. They had the most charming smiles and the cheekiest faces you could ever imagine. Today was a sunny afternoon, and they were playing in the spacious playroom that looked out into the garden, dressed in matching blue and white sailor outfits that their mother had bought especially for them to look like the sailors on Daddy’s Big Ship. The outfits had cute little anchors embroidered on the pockets and made them look like the most adorable little sailors you've ever seen. The boys had been playing with wooden hoops, chasing them around the room and laughing with delight as they rolled and bounced away from them.
Mommy, who was busy in the adjacent room, had called out to them twice to come and put on their shoes, but they were having too much fun. She walked into the playroom, a vision in her standard house mother's attire, cardigan, and skirt that accentuated her voluptuous figure. Her pearls dangled gracefully around her neck, and she had a gentle smile on her face that hinted at the patience she had been extending to her mischievous little angels. But when she saw they had ignored her again, that smile turned into a stern look, and she knew it was time to get serious, the Sea Captain’s Wife, Mrs. Marigold, didn’t tolerate much disobedience.
"Russel, Henry," she said, her voice firm but still filled with a hint of love, "you’ve had two chances to do as I’ve asked. Now, no more games. You need to put on your shoes right this instant." Her brow furrowed, and the pearls around her neck swayed slightly as she spoke.
The boys looked at each other, their eyes wide with a mix of defiance and playfulness. Russel, the older of the two, stomped his sock-covered foot and shouted, "Phooey!" His cheeks were flushed with the excitement of the game, and his blue eyes sparkled with a hint of rebellion. Henry, the younger one, watched his brother with a mix of admiration and then laughed as the wooden hoop bounced off the wall.
Mrs. Marigold's patience had reached its limit. She snapped her fingers, a sharp sound echoing through the playroom, and said, "I've warned you twice, boys. Now, it's time for you to listen." Her gentle smile had morphed into a firm line, and the pearls around her neck seemed to tighten as she spoke. Her eyes wide as she grabbed the chair from the corner, the very chair that both boys had learned to dread—The Spanking Chair.
Russel, the cheeky older brother, realized his mistake and began to protest. "But Mommy, we're just playing!" he whined, trying to wiggle out of her grip. But she was not to be swayed. She had given them TOO many chances. Mrs. Marigold, with a sigh of frustration, sat down on the creaking Spanking Chair, her plump rump causing the sturdy encrusted chair to protest under her weight. She firmly secured him over her knee, his matching blue and white sailor bottoms pulled down enough to expose his bare cheeks. Mommy scolded loudly “Little Sailors that don’t follow command get a hot bottom spanking, and that’s that!”
Her hand was swift and firm as it connected with his tender skin, leaving a rosy handprint that grew redder with each smack. The sound echoed in the room, a sharp "thwack" that seemed to bounce off the wooden walls and fill the space with the unmistakable rhythm of discipline. Henry, the younger brother, had stopped playing and watched with wide eyes, the wooden hoop clutched at his side. He knew that he was next. He stopped and watched tranfixed as Mommy’s hand descended again and again, turning Russel's cheeks a light shade of crimson.
Russel's wiggles and protests grew more frantic, his cries of "ow, ow, Mommy, I'm sorry!" filling the room. Mrs. Marigold's arm didn't falter; she knew that consistency was key when it came to teaching her boys a lesson. Each smack was met with a little jiggle of her plump rump, which was clad in the tight skirt that left no doubt as to the seriousness of the situation. Her pearls swayed in time with the spanking, a stark contrast to the jovial game of moments before. She finially relented, allowing him to stand up, his bottom a blotched shade of red that matched as handprints on his cheeks. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his one hand, the other on his rump sniffling loudly. Mommy turned and beconed Henry over with her finger. “NOW Henry, your turn! Don’t MAKE me ask twice!” she exclaimed, her voice sterner than ever before.
Henry, his eyes wide and his face pale, knew that he couldn't escape what was coming next and resisting only made it worse. He approached the chair with the wooden hoop still in his hand, looking up at his Mommy with a mix of fear and regret. Mrs. Marigold took the hoop from him gently and placed it aside, her gaze never leaving his. She pulled him over her knee, unbuttoned and tugged his sailor shorts down just to enough expose his equally bare bottom. It quivered slightly in anticipation of the sting that was to come as his legs shifted. As Mommy lifted her left knee to prop and hold him in place, Henry was facing the wall, dangling his limbs in mid-air, his small white socks still on his feet. “ Remember THIS Henry when you want to disobey commands again!” she scolded sternly, her voice resonating with the seriousness of the situation, channeling her title as the Sea Captains Wife, the one that had to maintain order in the house. Palm pinkened, she raised her hand and brought it down sharply on the center of his bottom. The sound was loud and clear, a declaration of her displeasure.
The room was filled with Henry's yelps as Mrs. Marigold's hand made contact with his bare skin, painting it a shade of light red that mirrored his brother's. Her hand moved from one cheek to the other, creating a symmetrical pattern of handprints. Henry's cries grew more desperate with each spank, and his legs kicked in an effort to escape the burning sensation that was spreading over his bottom. Mrs. Marigold's pearls danced and jingled with every movement she made, a stark reminder of the power she held in that moment. Her skirt had ridden up slightly, revealing the tops of her knees that had given her the strength to raise two mischievous but lovable boys.