I thought I would show you that my son is not lacking in getting his oh so very naughty bottom spanked, this time courtesy of his Aunty Shan
Saturday 24 December 2011
Merry Christmas
I thought I would show you that my son is not lacking in getting his oh so very naughty bottom spanked, this time courtesy of his Aunty Shan
Sunday 20 November 2011
A Bathroom Spanking
A Bathroom Spanking
This story has a trigger, the trigger being a post by Aunty Andrea on the Spank Shop blog.
As many of my readers will know, I live with my guardian and her two sons David and Grant. Mom’s name is Marta Van Rensburg. Mom became my legal guardian after my natural parents relocated to the coast and left me in her care. My father was ill and my mother devoted all her time to caring for him. Mom decided she wanted full parental rights and my parents felt it to be in my best interest for me to stay with Marta now mom.
All my school life I have had to fight to protect myself from those boys both older and bigger than me. These boys saw me as an easy target for their bullying, that is until they learned otherwise to their cost and shame. Throughout my schooling my class mates were on average 18 months to 2yrs older than me. I started school in a Crown colony in the year I turned 5. My class mates in the year they turned 7.
By the time I reached high school I was already a veteran scrapper, being hauled in front of my house masters on many an occasion for fighting. To my credit I seldom started the fight but certainly finished them. Mom’s best friend is Aunty Amber, one of my teachers and she during a discussion with mom informed her that I was not afraid to get into a fight and that I, in spite of my size seldom lost.
Mom decided that fighting was to stop forthwith, unfortunately she only told me. I presume because the other boys were not her concern. I however was her concern. Mom told me I would be punished if I got caught fighting at school, Because mom never told me I could not fight outside the school grounds, I naively took this to mean that it was okay to fight as long as it was not on the school grounds. Boy was I ever mistaken!!!!!!!
The first time I fought after coming to live with mom was two days before my 16th birthday, we fought, to this day I cannot remember why, however we were both a mess afterwards. I matched his black eye, my shirt was torn and he was bleeding from the deep gouges where my satchel buckles had snagged on his arm after I hit him with it.
Unfortunately it was Aunty Amber who some girls called to break up the fight and although the fight technically took place off school grounds the school, namely Aunty Amber got involved. Justice was swift and both of us got caned. Six of the best from a rather disappointed and annoyed teacher. We both signed the punishment book and I was informed that Aunty Amber would be contacting mom to tell her of the events and aftermath of the afternoons festivities.
Mom was most displeased and before bed time I found myself bawling my eyes out as mom did everything possible to set my butt alight using her very capable hairbrush. Now a hairbrushing is bad enough on it’s own but coming scant hours after six of the best from Aunty Amber it was pure torture. Mom proved her stamina far exceeded mine as she wore me out long before she finished. The promise of an even more severe spanking was enough to deter me from starting any fights for over 3 months.
The day of infamy started much like December the 7th 1941, a beautiful clear day and as I walked the short distance to school from home I enjoyed the freshness of the early morning. However unlike that day long ago, there were no Japanese bombers attacking Pearl harbour. Instead there was Brett Martin, the class idiot, he was 19 years old and had already been kept back a year. He had tried to force a friend to allow him to copy her homework and when she refused he started hitting her. At 6’ 2” Brett was a big guy but for all his size he was incredibly slow and what was worse he was a sucker for a right cross as well as having a glass jaw. When I tried to intervene he slapped me and then committed his big mistake. He allowed me to get up. The fight was very one sided and before anyone could yell “FIGHT FIGHT” it was over. And three other seniors were pulling me off him as I was attempting to smash his face through the concrete of the pavement.
It was only later in the morning when I spoke to Mrs Roux, Aunty Amber, that my butt began to twitch and I knew that I was in for it. As far as the school was concerned I had stopped a guy beating up on a girl and the school decided not to punish me. Mom however was a totally different matter.
Aunty Amber tried to intervene on my behalf but I told her mom would still punish me for fighting. I went home with a heavy heart as the prospect of a spanking from my beloved mom loomed ever closer.
I decided to have an early bath before mom got home and was almost finished when mom came into the bathroom with fire in her eyes. Before I could even plead for mercy mom had reached out and grasping my ear hauled me to my feet.
“I SMACK thought SMACK I SMACK told you SMACK no more SMACK fighting” SMACK. This first salvo of six spanks were all directed to the tops of my legs, I twisted and wriggled, trying desperately to escape the stinging slaps to my legs.
“Get out of the bath Mario, Now little boy, don’t make me tell you again” Mom said, her voice stern and I discerned the anger, but more than simple anger, there was disappointment in her voice.
I climbed out of the bath my hand immediately rubbing the tops of my legs, trying to rub away the sting.
“Mario”, said mom; “you know better than to rub young man, take your hands away from your bottom before I fetch the strap.”
“Yes mom,” I said moving my hand to my side.
“What did I tell you about fighting Mario?”
I knew that I had to answer mom’s question, I also knew that if mom did not like the answer she spanked me until I gave her the correct one.
“You told me I was not allowed to fight mom, but mom…”
I got no further as mom dragged me closer to her , pushed her left leg out and bent me over her leg, wrapped her arm over my shoulder thus effectively pinning me in place and proceeded to spank.
SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK, all 8 spanks landing on exactly the same spot, right where thigh meets bottom. SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK seconds later the other side got the same treatment.
I had never been spanked while I was wet, mom’s hand was also wet, oh boy it stung like a thousand ants all biting at the same time.
“Tell me Mario, what did I tell you about the next spanking you would get for fighting?”
I was so busy trying to get rid of the sting from those slaps to my sit spot and to cover my bottom that I failed to answer straight away.
“I spoke to you young man”, each syllable punctuated by a stinging slap to the top of my legs again and again.
“mommieeeeeee, I’mmmmmmm sorrrrrrrrry,” I cried out in agony, the stinging in my rear driving all thought of dissention out of my mind. Mom kept on the slaps, only now she branched upwards, her hand covering every square millimetre of my bottom and upper thighs.
“Mario, I can keep this up longer than you can stand it, in fact lets up the ante a little.”
The slapping stopped and as I opened my eyes to see the reason why, I cried out in horror, screaming out “ No mommieeee please not the bath brushpleaseeeee”
CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK
CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK
Again and again the horrible brush struck home, every spank causing fresh agony to my already sore bottom. It was as though every spank caused the drops of water clinging to my skin to boil, the tiny burns causing excruciating agony that drove all coherent thought from my mind.
Mom was like someone driven, she totally ignored my cries and my pleas for her to stop, intent on driving home the lesson she wished to teach me and that was never to fight again.
Long after I gave up screaming and simply hung over mom’s leg sobbing afresh as each spank of that horrible brush struck home mom finally stopped. Later I was to learn that mom had only given me 24 spanks with the brush. To this day it remains as the most severe spanking I ever received from my mom.
Friday 4 November 2011
Andrew meets a Lady
Hi all, I started writing this story during the dark days of depression. I decided I did not like the story line as it was too depressing so I re wrote it at 2am this morning.
The night was still young when Andrew and his friends
arrived outside the night club. Already fuelled by a considerable quantity of
alcohol consumed before they had even left the college campus, the three young
men were out to ‘paint the town red’. After all reaching your majority was
surely an excuse for a celebration. Andrew was 21 years of age.
Raised in a succession of foster homes, Andrew never knew
his parents; his father had absconded the moment his mother announced she was
pregnant leaving the 16 year old girl to fend for herself. A succession of men
all used and abused the young girl and at the age of three Andrew was removed
into care and never saw his mother again.
The party got really loud and everyone had a good time,
Somehow during the course of the night Andrew had got separated from his
companions and after getting chucked out of the night club he staggered down a
side street where the urge to throw up overwhelmed him and leaning against the
fence he succumbed to the inevitable and emptied the contents of his stomach.
Now the initial heaving withdrew and he was left with a sickly taste in his
mouth. Spying a tap on the back wall of the house Andrew decided that anything
was preferable to the vile taste still lingering on his taste buds so he tried
to scale the wall in order to get to the tap; however in his drunken state he
lost his balance whilst still perched on top of the wall. He fell with enough
noise to wake the dead and a splash as he fell into a pond. A loud expletive
issued from his lips as he emerged coughing and spluttering, the stagnant smell
reacting with the vile sick smell and taste in his mouth. As he wiped his face
he stopped as he saw that his antics and the fact he had made such a noise he
had woken the occupant of the house up.
He looked at her, all dressed for bed and wearing a long T
–shirt with a logo that said “Don’t try to understand me, just love me”. At the
moment however the look on her face said anything but. She was pissed, really
pissed. Grabbing the startled young man by the ear she marched him through her
garden, up the stairs into her kitchen where she directed him to a chair.
Releasing him she told him to sit “NOW”
She fetched a towel from the closet in the hall and on
returning to the kitchen she handed Andrew the towel and told him “You smell
like a brewery and you stink, there is a shower through that door, use it,
leave your clothes by the door, I will bring you something to wear until your
clothes dry. Is that understood? ”
“Please Miss, I am sorry for waking you, there is no need
for you to...”
“Young man, I did not ask you for an apology, I asked you if
you understood what I told you, did your mother not teach you anything.”
“I don’t have a mother Miss, and I do understand. Through
that door, you said Miss?”
“Yes and my name is Vicky, what is your name?”
I am Andrew Miss Vicky and thank you”.
Fifteen minutes later Andrew emerged from the shower feeling
much better. Vicky had, true to her word, gathered his clothes and put them in
the washing machine. She looked up as Andrew entered the kitchen and smiled at
him. “Feeling better now?” she asked as he sat down across the table from her
“Yes maam, I err mean Vicky”
Without asking she poured a steaming mug of coffee in front
of him.
“Andrew, I would like to apologise for my insensitivity
earlier when I asked if your mother never taught you anything”
“That’s ok... Maam, I mean Vicky, I never knew my mother you
see I was a ward of the state until...” He looked at his watch and then looking
up again he said “until 3 hours ago”
“So” she said, it is your birthday and you decided to
celebrate with your mates I take it. If that is the case, you have a poor
choice in friends if they left you all alone on your birthday. What happened to
them?”
“I really don’t know, one minute they were with me, the
next, they had disappeared and I was getting chucked out into the street. We
were watching a dancer. My friend tried to give her some cash but he ended up
falling all over her.”
“He ended up falling all over her because you got sick and
threw up all over his feet, he slipped and that was why he fell on top of the
dancer.”
“You mean...that’s why they disappeared, the fucking rats...”
A hard slap stopped the young man in mid sentence
“I do not like the swearing young man. If you were my son
and you spoke like that, you would be getting your mouth washed out with soap.
In fact if you swear again I will wash your potty mouth out with soap.”
Andrew quickly apologised, promising to mind his language.
“It was you then, the dancer. I’ve kind of messed up,
haven’t I?
“Nothing that cannot be put right, your coffee is getting
cold; drink it before it is cold and I will make you a fresh cup.”
“Yes Maam”, said Andrew as he drank the coffee in a single
gulp.
Maam, may I ask a personal question.”
After giving Andrew permission Vicky sat down after first
putting a fresh cup of coffee in front of Andrew.
“Well Maam, when you
told me off you mentioned a son, yet here you are alone.”
“Yes Andrew I do have a son, but I have not seen him for 17
years, you see I got into trouble because of alcohol and my son was taken into
care. He is 21, in fact it was his birthday yesterday. Hardly a day goes by
when I don’t have him in my thoughts. To tell you the truth, I was simply going
to call the police when you woke the world up, you for some reason remind me of
him. I decided that you deserved a break and that’s why you and I are sat in my
kitchen drinking coffee.”
“Thank you maam...”
Vicky interrupted Andrew saying “there is no need to be so
formal, I told you my name is Vicky.”
“I know Maam, for some reason I find it difficult to be so
forward but you remind me of my mother, what little I can remember of her. She
must be around 40 now, she had long light brown hair, I know she was very young
when I was born, that is all the social services would tell me”
“That is ok Andrew, if it will make you feel more at ease
then by all means call me what you wish.”
“Thank you Maam, it is good of you to care and I appreciate
your kindness, after all I have done and the way I have messed up tonight. Yet something
tells me I am still in trouble.”
“Yes you are in trouble, but I want to know why you think
you are. Can you tell me why you are in trouble?”
“Yes maam, I am in trouble because I climbed over your
property wall, fell into your pond and woke the neighbourhood.”
“Not bad, you are a bright boy, now what do you think should
happen to you.”
“I am not sure, I suppose that depends on you, I mean I
could repaint the wall, do some chores for you”
“Not quite what I had in mind, however you did say that it
depended on me, is that not so.”
“Yes Maam, it does depend on you, but I don’t think I am
going to like what you have in mind.”
“Andrew I can tell you that I would do exactly what I plan
to do with you with my own son if he was foolish enough to do what you did
tonight.”
“But I was celebrating my birthday; surely there is nothing
wrong with that?”
“Tell me Andrew, how much did you drink tonight?”
Andrew hung his head and while looking at the floor softly
said; “a lot”
Vicky reached out and gently lifted his chin, forcing the
young man to look at her. “How much is a lot Andrew?”
“Feeling very sheepish Andrew began to count aloud, “Well
there was the four pints at the college dorm, three more at the Slug and Fiddle plus about four or five Vodka and
red bulls”
“Tell me you are kidding” said Vicky in shock as the young
man recited the litany of alcohol abuse he indulged in. “Do you want to kill
yourself or worse kill someone else”
Andrew hung his head in remorse as Vicky scolded him for
being so foolish and drinking like he did.
“I am sorry Maam”
“You ought to be young man, you see I lost my son because of
my drinking and I have never forgiven myself. The last thing I would want is
for you to do the same. For this I think you deserve a spanking.”
Before Andrew realized it he had jumped up “You have got to
be fucking joking, a spanking. I am too old for this shit...”
Vicky stood and grabbed the startled young man by the ear
again and half dragged him still muttering into the bathroom where she after
delivering a series of hard spanks to Andrew’s backside, released his ear and
after lathering a bar of soap said; “open”.
Andrew kept his mouth shut, eliciting a series of hard wet
smacks as Vicky punished his thigh. Andrew opened his mouth to protest only to
find his mouth filled with the soap as Vicky shoved it in.
Coughing and spluttering Andrew stood meekly as Vicky
proceeded to thoroughly soap his mouth, gagging all the while on the vile
taste. Allowing Andrew a glass of water to rinse his mouth she directed the
chastened youngster to the kitchen with a hard spank on the seat of his shorts
where he sat down with alacrity, anything to avoid those stinging spanks.
Looking down at him from her position Vicky said “Too old
for a spanking indeed. You are definitely not too old for a good bare bottomed
spanking my boy and that is exactly what you are going to get”.
All the while she positioned her chair so there was plenty
of room, sat down and calling the trembling youngster to her she directed him
to stand next to her right knee and proceeded to remove the youngsters trousers
and underwear before gently guiding him over her knee.
Before Andrew quite realized it he was staring at the
kitchen floor, the tiled surface about 4 inches from his face and his backside
strategically placed.
Vicky gently rubbed the palm of her hand over the
trembling boy’s upturned bottom watching
as he involuntarily flinched. The moment she saw his bottom relax she raised
her hand up high and brought it down hard on the lily white bottom lying over
her lap. A few seconds later there was an equal hand print on the opposite
cheek.
The shock of the first two spanks to land took Andrews
breath away, he gasped unable to believe that it could hurt so much. No sooner
had the pain disappeared than it began all over again as Vicky began to spank
in earnest.
Vicky, for her part was amazed at how quickly the pristine
white cheeks reddened. Alternating from side to side each succeeding spank
overlapping the previous one slightly. Satisfied at the colour of Andrews
bottom, Vicky switched attack to the tender joint, the so called sit spot, where
bottom and thigh join.
Andrew meanwhile was struggling, the constant barrage of
spanks quickly brought him to the point of tears. His gasps and grunts of pain
became cries, interspersed with the tears came entreaties for mercy, promises
of obedience, pleas for the torment to stop, all to no avail. Finally he broke
down and began to sob, great wracking sobs from deep within his soul, the agony
and pain of his childhood combined with the very real pain he was experiencing
at the hand of Vicky caused the fountain of tears to burst forth.
Vicky kept a watchful eye open for signs that the spanking
was effective , when she saw the floodgates open and heard Andrews cry of
anguish knew the end of the spanking was near. She increased the force and
speed concentrating the last explosive volley on Andrews sit spot.
Meanwhile Andrew was totally unaware that Vicky no longer
spanked, instead she gently whispered to him that it was finished. It took a
further 5 minutes before the sobbing boy raised his head, his vision blurred
and snot and mucus all over his face.
As he stood up his hand flew to his bottom and gently
cradled the steaming flesh. The touch bringing a cry of pain and anguish again
Drumming his feet he danced totally unaware of the fact that Vicky could and
saw everything.
Vicky meanwhile had fetched a facecloth and gently proceeded
to wash the still crying youngsters face. Satisfied he looked reasonably
presentable she opened her arms and enveloped Andrew in a hug, gently drawing
him onto her lap soothing him all the while.
Andrew relaxed as he felt Vicky draw him onto her lap, he
felt safe, instinctively knowing this lady would never harm him. Never in his
life had he experienced such a sense of safety and security. Finally the drink
and spanking began to take its toll on the exhausted young man .
Vicky offered Andrew a bed for the night and as she made up
the bed in the spare room she noticed a scar on Andrew leg. Alone in her
bedroom, Vicky opened a photo album, a picture of a smiling blonde headed young
boy with an identical scar on his leg.
“ You are home my precious boy, at last I have found you”…
Monday 31 October 2011
Discipline of Choice
I have been reading a story by a bloke by the name of Peter Martin entitled Discipline of choice. Here is Chapter 1.
Chapter 1
It was nice and sunny in the garden. It was spring. The grass was
starting to look green. It was so quiet, there in the back garden.
Mike is 19 years old. He lives with his mother, who is divorced. He is
slim, five feet nine inches tall, fit, enjoys running. He is in his
second year at University, and enjoys the life. Sure he is living at
home, but that saves money. He still gets to be out with his
University friends. He just needs to make sure he gets the last bus
home. Otherwise he must make sure he phones home and tells his Mum
where he will be staying.
Mike lent against the wall, musing as he did so often, about being put
across the knee of a beautiful woman, and being spanked to tears. He
had thought about this for as long as he can remember. He would look
at a woman walking along the street or sitting on the train, any
woman, and just think whether she would be the right type of person to
give him a good spanking. And they normally were.
Just then he heard his neighbours arguing, upstairs in their house. He
had often heard them having loud words at each other but today it was
particularly clear.
Susan was shouting "How many times have I told you. Ten times today at
least. I won't be telling you again. Do it now" the final words being
very pronounced indeed.
John shouted back "I'll do it, but I'm busy. I told you I would do it
didn't I."
"Sure you are busy. Playing on your computer. Not good enough. OK,
I'll count to three, and if I get there you know what will happen."
"Yeah yeah. Just leave it. OK!"
"One." Silence. Mike wondered what would happen if she got to three.
"Two." Still silence.
"Three. Right, get over here" she said very sharply indeed.
"OK, ok, I'll do it. OK" came the response.
"Too late by far. Get over here now" she snapped again.
Silence. Mike wondered what it all meant. Nothing for a whole minute.
Then someone clapped their hands. Strange he thought. They clapped
their hands again, and again, and again. He heard a short grunt. Then
more clapping, each one followed by a grunt. Finally, he realised
what was happening when he heard Susan say "am I getting through?
My goodness, he thought. She's giving him a spanking. Wow. Just like
that. She is all of forty five and he must be fifty. Yes, he had his
fiftieth birthday party three weeks ago. Mum went. Wow.
Suddenly he realised just how much he was enjoying listening to what
was going on. Listening as his forty five year old neighbour, who had
seen him grow up, from the age of three, as she was actually spanking
her husband. He realised just how it was affecting him when his
trousers tightened. His penis standing so erect it was starting to
hurt. It excited him that much.
The spanking went on for ages. John's grunts were getting louder. His
grunting then turned to sobbing, and begging for the spanking to stop.
"I'll do anything. Anything. Please stop .... please .... please.
The sound of palm on bottom stopped. There wasn't silence. He could
hear sobbing. John was crying. Wow. That must have been some hard
spanking. For John to cry.
Soon he heard the softer sound of Susan's voice. "There there. It's ok
now. You'll be a good boy won't you."
"Yes, I will. Promise."
Susan was now making soothing noises whilst John was trying to calm
himself down.
Suddenly he heard John speak more urgently "the windows open."
Susan gasped.
Mike stood closer to the wall. He would just be out of sight if Susan
lent out. She did. "Its OK. No one is there" she said. Next thing was
the sound of the double glazed window slamming shut. The noise was
gone.
Mike waited a few moments before daring to move. When he thought it
was safe he shot around the house, remaining out of view.
Once inside he rushed to his bedroom. He had to think. To relish what
he had heard. All these years little did he suspect. There really were
people, adults, who got spanked. It wasn't just kids. That is so cool.
Just so cool.
He realised he still had a full erection. What was he going to do.
Well, he guessed he would have to do what he normally did. He unzipped
his trousers, put his hand around his erection, and started to gently
rub.
Once he was more relaxed he went downstairs. Mum was there. Cleaning
the house as usual. She had a thing about it.
"Hi Mum."
"Hi Mike. How is your project going?"
Mike had forgotten about the project. He only had today and tomorrow
to finish it. Mum knew that and had been on and on at him about it.
"I will do it this afternoon, or tomorrow Mum. Promise."
Mum stopped dusting and gave her son one of those stares. "Please
Mike, I don't want to have to keep on reminding you. Why don't you
just get on with it?"
Mike looked at his mother. She was in her late forties, black hair,
with some grey of course, a light blue top with the sleeves rolled up,
and leggings. Her usual gear for cleaning.
"I will Mum. Really."
"Hhhmmm" she said. "Anything I can do to get you going?"
"You're treating me like a kid Mum." He added "or do you think a
spanking would help me Mum?" He half laughed. He held his breath. It
just seemed so right.
"Would it?" she shot back. "I can tell you Mike I would if I thought
it would help. I am so fed up with keeping on and on at you."
Wow, she said it with real feeling. Did she go on so much at him.
Well, he supposed she did really.
"It might" Mike found himself saying, almost half heartedly. Did he
really say that?
His Mum put down her duster, and stood looking at her son, with her
hands on her hips. "Now look Mike. Don't mess me around. You are
nineteen years old and we both know you are too old to be spanked. But
I will if it will help. It's just that I won't do it just the once. It
has to be the way we are for a while."
Mike thought about it. Not so bad. Maybe.
"What do you mean Mum?"
"I mean young man, if you are naughty, don't clean your room, don't
let me know where you are, come home having had too much to drink,
then its not a talking to you will get, its straight over my lap and
no arguing. How does that sound?"
Mike thought again. She was serious. He thought about John and how he
had felt about it, listening.
"OK Mum. Deal."
"Not just once then. It's for a while?"
"For as long as Mum. You decide. Promise."
Mike thought how strict she looked. Just like she did all those years
ago when she would tell him off. He did what he was told then. He
didn't need a spanking. She had never spanked him. This was going to
be the first.
"Right. So, lets give you that incentive I was talking about."
Mike suddenly stopped short. He watched as his mother walked over to
the dining table and turned a high backed chair into the room.
"Over here."
Mike stood still. Unsure.
"Now" his mother demanded, clapping her hands.
The sudden noise shook Mike out of his stupor, and he walked across to
his mother.
"Hands aside" she ordered. Mike raised them, and next saw his mother
reach for the button and zip of his trousers. Soon he knew it would be
too late. His trousers were yanked down to his ankles. His mother put
her thumbs inside the waistband of his underpants. Mike grabbed his
mothers hands. Stopping her. Their eyes met. Hers were stern. His
pleading. Their eyes met for just a few moments before Mike looked
away. He felt his underpants follow his trousers to his ankles. He
felt his mother take his arm and pull him gently downwards. He felt
himself bending forward, his eyes were half closed as he balanced
himself on her thigh, as he slowly lowered himself across her lap. His
mothers hand clasped around his arm. Steadying him but always guiding
him downwards. He opened his eyes as he saw the carpet coming up to
meet him. He looked underneath to find his legs dangling on the far
side of the legs he knew belonged to his mother. His trousers and
pants right at the end of his legs. His bare legs. He knew the rest of
his legs were bare. And of course his bottom was now bare.
Unprotected. He squirmed around, straining to see upwards. He looked
straight into his mothers eyes. Still stern. Not to be argued with. He
saw her raised arm. The palm flat at the end. He turned away, looking
back at the floor.
"I hope you learn from this young man."
With that he heard the first smack. A loud slap. Then the pain. It was
a shock. More than any pain. It was the first smack. It was very
quickly followed by a second and a third. Soon it was becoming
uncomfortable. The stinging was still there when the next spank
arrived. No respite between spanks. No comfort zone. Definitely a
discomfort zone in fact.
The spanking carried on, spank after spank. He was finding it hard to
stay composed. It hurt much more than he expected it to hurt. Much
more. Without realising it he was now sobbing. He could not stop
himself. The soreness. The hurt.
He then became conscious that the spanking had stopped. He knew his
mothers hand was resting on his bare bottom. His sore bare bottom.
"Well Mike, are you going to do your project now?"
He tried to speak but couldn't get the words out. Slowly he calmed
himself down. His mother was rubbing his bottom. It was soothing.
Helping.
SMACK
"Ouch. Yes Mum" he said quickly. "Please, enough Mum."
"OK. Just get along and do it. I will be checking on you and if you
don't get a good move on guess where you will be going again."
SMACK.
Mike got up as quickly as he could. He pulled up his trousers and
pants, and did them up. His mother stood up, opened her arms, and Mike
fell in to them.
"Now now. Its all over. Be a good boy, run along." She gave him a kiss
on his cheek. His wet cheek. . He didn't normally like being kissed by
his mother, but he didn't argue. Not this time.
He started to walk away, but his mother called him. "Mike, look at
this" she said, pointing at her lap. There was a small stain. It was
from him. He knew that when he bent across her lap he already had an
erection. There was nothing he could do about it. He thought it would
have gone as soon as the spanking started. He blushed. Embarrassed. It
was his Mum after all.
"Sorry Mum."
"It better not happen again, or you will be really for it."
"Sorry Mum" he repeated.
Mike obediently looked at his mother. He hoped he wouldn't do it
again.
"Mike, don't forget. You will be getting spanked if you are naughty. I
promise.
He went to his bedroom. Shut the door. He lay on his bed and put his
hand inside his trousers. And gently rubbed. He thought about the
spanking. His bottom was sore, but also tingly. Nicely so.
He got up and looked in the mirror and was pleased to see his bottom
was so red. Just as he had imagined it.
He sat on his chair and jumped up again. That stung he realised. He
placed his pillow on the chair and sat down again. Gingerly. That was
better he thought.
He took out his books and started his project. Yes, that was just the
incentive he needed. Exactly the one.
Chapter 1
It was nice and sunny in the garden. It was spring. The grass was
starting to look green. It was so quiet, there in the back garden.
Mike is 19 years old. He lives with his mother, who is divorced. He is
slim, five feet nine inches tall, fit, enjoys running. He is in his
second year at University, and enjoys the life. Sure he is living at
home, but that saves money. He still gets to be out with his
University friends. He just needs to make sure he gets the last bus
home. Otherwise he must make sure he phones home and tells his Mum
where he will be staying.
Mike lent against the wall, musing as he did so often, about being put
across the knee of a beautiful woman, and being spanked to tears. He
had thought about this for as long as he can remember. He would look
at a woman walking along the street or sitting on the train, any
woman, and just think whether she would be the right type of person to
give him a good spanking. And they normally were.
Just then he heard his neighbours arguing, upstairs in their house. He
had often heard them having loud words at each other but today it was
particularly clear.
Susan was shouting "How many times have I told you. Ten times today at
least. I won't be telling you again. Do it now" the final words being
very pronounced indeed.
John shouted back "I'll do it, but I'm busy. I told you I would do it
didn't I."
"Sure you are busy. Playing on your computer. Not good enough. OK,
I'll count to three, and if I get there you know what will happen."
"Yeah yeah. Just leave it. OK!"
"One." Silence. Mike wondered what would happen if she got to three.
"Two." Still silence.
"Three. Right, get over here" she said very sharply indeed.
"OK, ok, I'll do it. OK" came the response.
"Too late by far. Get over here now" she snapped again.
Silence. Mike wondered what it all meant. Nothing for a whole minute.
Then someone clapped their hands. Strange he thought. They clapped
their hands again, and again, and again. He heard a short grunt. Then
more clapping, each one followed by a grunt. Finally, he realised
what was happening when he heard Susan say "am I getting through?
My goodness, he thought. She's giving him a spanking. Wow. Just like
that. She is all of forty five and he must be fifty. Yes, he had his
fiftieth birthday party three weeks ago. Mum went. Wow.
Suddenly he realised just how much he was enjoying listening to what
was going on. Listening as his forty five year old neighbour, who had
seen him grow up, from the age of three, as she was actually spanking
her husband. He realised just how it was affecting him when his
trousers tightened. His penis standing so erect it was starting to
hurt. It excited him that much.
The spanking went on for ages. John's grunts were getting louder. His
grunting then turned to sobbing, and begging for the spanking to stop.
"I'll do anything. Anything. Please stop .... please .... please.
The sound of palm on bottom stopped. There wasn't silence. He could
hear sobbing. John was crying. Wow. That must have been some hard
spanking. For John to cry.
Soon he heard the softer sound of Susan's voice. "There there. It's ok
now. You'll be a good boy won't you."
"Yes, I will. Promise."
Susan was now making soothing noises whilst John was trying to calm
himself down.
Suddenly he heard John speak more urgently "the windows open."
Susan gasped.
Mike stood closer to the wall. He would just be out of sight if Susan
lent out. She did. "Its OK. No one is there" she said. Next thing was
the sound of the double glazed window slamming shut. The noise was
gone.
Mike waited a few moments before daring to move. When he thought it
was safe he shot around the house, remaining out of view.
Once inside he rushed to his bedroom. He had to think. To relish what
he had heard. All these years little did he suspect. There really were
people, adults, who got spanked. It wasn't just kids. That is so cool.
Just so cool.
He realised he still had a full erection. What was he going to do.
Well, he guessed he would have to do what he normally did. He unzipped
his trousers, put his hand around his erection, and started to gently
rub.
Once he was more relaxed he went downstairs. Mum was there. Cleaning
the house as usual. She had a thing about it.
"Hi Mum."
"Hi Mike. How is your project going?"
Mike had forgotten about the project. He only had today and tomorrow
to finish it. Mum knew that and had been on and on at him about it.
"I will do it this afternoon, or tomorrow Mum. Promise."
Mum stopped dusting and gave her son one of those stares. "Please
Mike, I don't want to have to keep on reminding you. Why don't you
just get on with it?"
Mike looked at his mother. She was in her late forties, black hair,
with some grey of course, a light blue top with the sleeves rolled up,
and leggings. Her usual gear for cleaning.
"I will Mum. Really."
"Hhhmmm" she said. "Anything I can do to get you going?"
"You're treating me like a kid Mum." He added "or do you think a
spanking would help me Mum?" He half laughed. He held his breath. It
just seemed so right.
"Would it?" she shot back. "I can tell you Mike I would if I thought
it would help. I am so fed up with keeping on and on at you."
Wow, she said it with real feeling. Did she go on so much at him.
Well, he supposed she did really.
"It might" Mike found himself saying, almost half heartedly. Did he
really say that?
His Mum put down her duster, and stood looking at her son, with her
hands on her hips. "Now look Mike. Don't mess me around. You are
nineteen years old and we both know you are too old to be spanked. But
I will if it will help. It's just that I won't do it just the once. It
has to be the way we are for a while."
Mike thought about it. Not so bad. Maybe.
"What do you mean Mum?"
"I mean young man, if you are naughty, don't clean your room, don't
let me know where you are, come home having had too much to drink,
then its not a talking to you will get, its straight over my lap and
no arguing. How does that sound?"
Mike thought again. She was serious. He thought about John and how he
had felt about it, listening.
"OK Mum. Deal."
"Not just once then. It's for a while?"
"For as long as Mum. You decide. Promise."
Mike thought how strict she looked. Just like she did all those years
ago when she would tell him off. He did what he was told then. He
didn't need a spanking. She had never spanked him. This was going to
be the first.
"Right. So, lets give you that incentive I was talking about."
Mike suddenly stopped short. He watched as his mother walked over to
the dining table and turned a high backed chair into the room.
"Over here."
Mike stood still. Unsure.
"Now" his mother demanded, clapping her hands.
The sudden noise shook Mike out of his stupor, and he walked across to
his mother.
"Hands aside" she ordered. Mike raised them, and next saw his mother
reach for the button and zip of his trousers. Soon he knew it would be
too late. His trousers were yanked down to his ankles. His mother put
her thumbs inside the waistband of his underpants. Mike grabbed his
mothers hands. Stopping her. Their eyes met. Hers were stern. His
pleading. Their eyes met for just a few moments before Mike looked
away. He felt his underpants follow his trousers to his ankles. He
felt his mother take his arm and pull him gently downwards. He felt
himself bending forward, his eyes were half closed as he balanced
himself on her thigh, as he slowly lowered himself across her lap. His
mothers hand clasped around his arm. Steadying him but always guiding
him downwards. He opened his eyes as he saw the carpet coming up to
meet him. He looked underneath to find his legs dangling on the far
side of the legs he knew belonged to his mother. His trousers and
pants right at the end of his legs. His bare legs. He knew the rest of
his legs were bare. And of course his bottom was now bare.
Unprotected. He squirmed around, straining to see upwards. He looked
straight into his mothers eyes. Still stern. Not to be argued with. He
saw her raised arm. The palm flat at the end. He turned away, looking
back at the floor.
"I hope you learn from this young man."
With that he heard the first smack. A loud slap. Then the pain. It was
a shock. More than any pain. It was the first smack. It was very
quickly followed by a second and a third. Soon it was becoming
uncomfortable. The stinging was still there when the next spank
arrived. No respite between spanks. No comfort zone. Definitely a
discomfort zone in fact.
The spanking carried on, spank after spank. He was finding it hard to
stay composed. It hurt much more than he expected it to hurt. Much
more. Without realising it he was now sobbing. He could not stop
himself. The soreness. The hurt.
He then became conscious that the spanking had stopped. He knew his
mothers hand was resting on his bare bottom. His sore bare bottom.
"Well Mike, are you going to do your project now?"
He tried to speak but couldn't get the words out. Slowly he calmed
himself down. His mother was rubbing his bottom. It was soothing.
Helping.
SMACK
"Ouch. Yes Mum" he said quickly. "Please, enough Mum."
"OK. Just get along and do it. I will be checking on you and if you
don't get a good move on guess where you will be going again."
SMACK.
Mike got up as quickly as he could. He pulled up his trousers and
pants, and did them up. His mother stood up, opened her arms, and Mike
fell in to them.
"Now now. Its all over. Be a good boy, run along." She gave him a kiss
on his cheek. His wet cheek. . He didn't normally like being kissed by
his mother, but he didn't argue. Not this time.
He started to walk away, but his mother called him. "Mike, look at
this" she said, pointing at her lap. There was a small stain. It was
from him. He knew that when he bent across her lap he already had an
erection. There was nothing he could do about it. He thought it would
have gone as soon as the spanking started. He blushed. Embarrassed. It
was his Mum after all.
"Sorry Mum."
"It better not happen again, or you will be really for it."
"Sorry Mum" he repeated.
Mike obediently looked at his mother. He hoped he wouldn't do it
again.
"Mike, don't forget. You will be getting spanked if you are naughty. I
promise.
He went to his bedroom. Shut the door. He lay on his bed and put his
hand inside his trousers. And gently rubbed. He thought about the
spanking. His bottom was sore, but also tingly. Nicely so.
He got up and looked in the mirror and was pleased to see his bottom
was so red. Just as he had imagined it.
He sat on his chair and jumped up again. That stung he realised. He
placed his pillow on the chair and sat down again. Gingerly. That was
better he thought.
He took out his books and started his project. Yes, that was just the
incentive he needed. Exactly the one.
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