Disclaimer:

First NSFW and you better be over 18.

A good boy spanking is one where the man-boy being spanked has an erection, orgasms, or just ejaculates sometime during the spanking scene. That is a little clinical and it isn't an official definition. I stole the term from another blog post (strictjuliespanks.blogspot.com) that seemed to be the closest things to what happens to me (or I would like to happen to me).

This is my travelogue as I explore this part of myself. Enjoy!

Saturday, August 8, 2015

New Self-Spanking Plan

For those late the party or new to my blog, I make plans and then try them out with my wife who will mostly role play at least a little. Here is my latest plan which I am totally terrified to tell my wife about. Stay tuned to see how this actually plays out.


This was a stupid idea. I've been up for hours after barely sleeping, my bottom stings, my penis is hard, testicles are full, and she hasn't even gotten home yet.

Last night before she left for work, I asked her for a spanking when she got home. After a long night of work, dealing with a needy husband when she gets home isn't her favorite thing to do. At least the morning spankings happen but they aren't like the long drawn out affairs that I sometimes request.

Unfortunately, the long drawn out evening spankings are really awesome. There is a warm-up and then a couple a little harder spanking sessions while I putter around knocking out a few chores. Sometimes we will go to dinner and before we leave she will really get a fire going so that I am uncomfortable sitting at dinner. When we get home, she'll re-ignite the fire and then keep me stinging and burning while I do more chores. Finally, I'll go over her towel covered lap and be allowed to hump her thighs until I squirt while she spanks me with the brush paddle. After I've had my little fun, she spanks harder and faster than ever until I am wiggling, squirming, and begging her to stop.

Morning spankings are different usually. She gets home after a night shift to find me nervously waiting for her. I usually barely sleep as I anticipate what will happen. When she finally gets home, I try to not look like the only thing on my mind is the spanking she agreed to give me. I try to ask her about her night and stuff but my voice cracks. One time, she bought breakfast for us on her way home. Though I greeted her at the door with my pajama bottoms on but tented out, I asked to sit at the kitchen table bottomless because my leaking penis was making such a mess.

Then she spanked me. It was slow and not too hard at first. I had to force myself to be still because the towel felt so good against my erect member. The impact of the paddle stung a little but mostly made my bottom jiggle and wobble. In spite of the embarrassment and pain, I liked it.

When she increased the intensity, I squirmed a little but not enough to make my mess. Soon though, it was starting to really sting and I started to let myself rub against her. I asked if I could squirt and she coldly denied my request telling me to wait. I tried to be still but couldn't. After another minute, I asked again and was again denied. I like to be denied. Actually, I like it when she begrudgingly grants me permission and I like it when she doesn't and I can't help but disobey her.

Usually she says something like "I suppose," and sighs. It doesn't take long before I enjoy my selfish pleasure. She spanks right through it and then I have to really take my medicine.

I thought that it would be, well, interesting, I guess, to combine the single morning spanking with the multiple preparation spankings like we do in the evening. Of course, without her there to spank me, I had only one choice.

Before I came out of the closet with my wife about my spanking needs (it is more than a fetish, really), I had tried some self-spanking. It never worked satisfactorily because I could never get out of my own head enough.

What if, however, I did all the warm-up spankings and she just stepped in at the end?

In my head, the warm-ups all serve a purpose: they are a form of foreplay gently stimulating my prostate, forcing blood and attention to my sex areas, and keeping me aroused but not overly stimulated. Like pounding on a ketchup bottle, the pressure builds just waiting for the right moment to spurt out all over. And I am embarrassed most of the time walking around naked with a boner and bright red bottom.

Last night I asked for a spanking when she got home this morning but said that I would take care of getting my bottom ready by giving myself warm-up spankings. She already thinks I am a freak but knows that before I came out of the closet, I had tried to satisfy my needs this way. She knows that it didn't really work. I assured her that knowing that when she got home she will take care of making me squirt and then squirm will help me spank myself properly.

That is all she knew. When she got home, my bottom was going to be red, burning, and stinging already. I was going to be ready for no more than to go over her lap, make my little squirt and then beg for it to all be over. 

Of course, as soon as she left for work, I realized that I could start spanking myself. For a while, I was able to refrain but I was hard and uncomfortably straining against my underwear and pants. I knew that I was supposed to be punished but I was torn between what was the worse punishment: being constrained or free but unstimulated. I decided that the anticipation was important and stayed constrained. Even when I finally went to bed, I kept my already soaked underwear on so as to not make a mess of the sheets.

Sleep was tricky. I found myself humping my body pillow and the mattress. Even the blankets tickled my erection. My bottom tingled anticipating the sting to come. My penis was frustrated that I wouldn't give in and masturbate. Minutes ticked by and the hours seemed never to pass.

My alarm was set for an hour and half before she even got off work. I watched the clock's second hand point straight up triggering the alarm. I decided that my first spanking would be just after the alarm went off. I turned off the alarm, rolled over on my tummy, and used the light paddle I put on my bedside the night before to spank my underwear covered bottom until I was stinging a little. I had to remain perfectly still for fear of making a mess in my underpants.

Being freshly out of the shower or bath with a wet bottom was a scenario I've never experienced. People say it hurts more. I put the paddle on the counter, showered and then spanked my wet bottom noisily. It did sting pretty good.

The morning continued with spankings in between each thing I had to do: breakfast and then a ten with the paddle, laundry and then a wooden spoon, litter box and the tawse. My bottom was getting red. Though during my chores, I would sometimes go limp, during the spankings, I would harden right up.

My bottom was getting pretty tender as well. I tried to get into different positions so that I could get all the different sensations that they have to offer. Of course, spanking myself wasn't easy in some positions. The best seemed to be just kneeling on the floor with my legs spread. It seemed best to set a timer on my phone for a minute or two depending on how vicious the implement was and just spank as hard and fast as I could for that time.

Eventually, I knew she was off work and maybe even on her way home. I was getting very nervous. I used the brush on myself for a minute and almost couldn't make it to the end of the timer. Looking in the mirror when that was done, I realized that my face looked puffy and my eyes were watery even though I wasn't crying. My mostly hard penis was crying, however. Pre-cum had been dripping off the tip all morning and the head was cold and wet like a dog's nose.

Now I had to make a choice: how did I want to greet her at the door? There were so many options. Part of me wanted to actually be spanking myself when she walked in the door. Let her hear me trying to punish myself with the sound of my whimpers as the the paddle strikes my bottom.

It would be weird, but I also thought about putting myself in "timeout" kneeling, facing the wall in the hall by the door. My naked well spanked bottom would be the first thing she would see.

Then again, maybe just standing there holding the little evil hairbrush paddle that always leaves its mark on me last. Naked would be a little shocking, I think. My erection would be on display immediately. Sometimes I feel bad because I am erect when I am going to be spanked and I don't always get erect for her when she is naked in the shower. 

I could put on pajama bottoms. The embarrassing tent and wet spot would be added humiliation and it would be more subtle than a "big" cock when she walks in the door. 

In the end, I left the paddle on bed with my special cummy towels and opted to wear my lightest pajama bottoms. I put them on and immediately made a wet spot. I also decided that I wanted my face to look like it did in the mirror. I should look like a naughty spanked little boy.

I got out the big paddle and pulled down the seat of my pajamas leaving the front covering my lewd sex organ and applied a couple swats. The "finisher" doesn't take much to have an effect.

And so I waited with pre-cum slowly soaking the front of my pajamas and bottom burning. Every couple minutes, I'd apply a couple swats to each cheek with the big paddle. It hurt so bad but I knew that each spank was making more semen. Each spank would make my orgasm bigger and better. Each minute that passed was a gift because each time I spanked myself I was preparing myself for my big cummy time over her lap.

With complete shock, I heard the garage door open and knew it was time for just a couple more last swats. I tried for 10 hard spanks--five on each cheek--before she came in the door. It hurt so bad being so hard and fast. I put the paddle away and rushed to the door. The world was a little out of focus as I realized that I nearly had tears in my eyes.

She knows me too well to think that I wouldn't be ready to go when she walked in the house.

"Hi babe," she asked cheerfully.

"Hi," I answered softly.

Looking me over, "how are you doing?" she asked knowingly.

"Pretty good," I said. "I'm glad you are home."

"Why is that?" she asked taking off her coat.

I paused. "My bottom is ouchie and my penis wants to squirt real bad," I said truthfully. "I'm happy I don't have to spank myself anymore."

"It looks like you are happy to see me," she said staring at my crotch. "Do we need to take care of that right away?" she asked with a note of disappointment.

I was so embarrassed, I had to look away before answering. "Soon, please," I said softly and fidgeting with my hands. My erection flexed a little and I felt even more pre-cum flow out.

"Well, let me pee first," she said with a huff.

"OK," I answered softly.

She disappeared into the bathroom and I stood beside the bed trying to figure out what to do with my hands. I picked up my cummy towel and paddle. The little paddle is curiously heavy. It is made from hard wood and is small so it makes concentrated little fires wherever it lands. Two or three on the same spot are unbearable.

She walked into the bedroom and I heard myself whimper in excitement, fear and anticipation. It was almost time. She smiled and rolled her eyes.

After she sat on the bed, I handed her the paddle and then spread the towel on her lap before finally pulling down my pajamas. They were so uncomfortable. The wetness was cold and the fabric kept pulling my erection down. It bounced free and happy as it was released from the confines.

"I'm sorry you have to spank me. After I squirt, please make sure to spank me long, hard, and fast, OK?" I asked quietly.

"Are you sure? You know how much it hurts after you make your little mess. Are you sure you can handle it?"

I nodded because I couldn't really form the words and then choked out, "yeah, I need my bottom to be really ouchie." The truth is, the fear of the pain after I squirt actually makes my orgasm better. But it can't be pretend fear; I have to really believe that it will be a really painful spanking after I cum. So, each spanking relies on the memory of the last spanking.

"OK," she said with a little shake of her head. We were done talking. No more delays. It was time to get down to business. I crawled onto the bed and across her thighs before lowering myself and carefully positioning my erection over her right thigh. I moaned when I made contact and savored the wonderful feeling.

"Wow, you are good and red already," she remarked. Wood on right cheek, then gone, then the crack of wood on naughty bottom. It stung but not terribly. I was a little relieved. My left cheek got a spank and I twitched. Nerve endings in my penis fired as I moved on the towel causing me to gasp. I let the spanks make me twitch and set the pace of my stimulation. It grew and in between ouchie sounds, I would sometimes moan in pleasure.

My orgasm was just out of reach. I would have hump her thighs a little to go over the edge so I asked breathlessly, "can I make my squirt, please?"

Predictably, the answer was not only "no" but she started spanking harder. The increased intensity make me squirm on her lap more. More squirming meant more stimulation. I ground on her lap feeling the conflicting pleasure of my building orgasm against the burning of my swollen bottom.

"Please?" I whined.

"No, not yet," she said coldly. The spanking continued and my squirming was mostly humping as I gave into the tingling pressure building in my sex.

"I, oh, please, it, I need, please, I can't stop it, please let, ow, me," I chanted. She said nothing as she continued to assault my bottom. But it didn't hurt anymore. I was going over the edge and couldn't stop myself. "Its coming! I'm sorry, no, oh, oh, oh, I'm sorry, noooo," I blurted out before devolving into my orgasm as I rubbed my erection on the towel. My semen shot and then poured out as I enjoyed my five seconds of pleasure.

Then it was over--completely and utterly over--and my universe was just my bottom, a piece of wood, and her strong arm. I tried not to beg for her to stop. Instead, I wiggled and squirmed. My grip on my comforter when I ejaculated was now a death grip so that I wouldn't reach back to stop her. My teeth clenched to keep from begging. I probably didn't even make it a minute before I had to beg her to stop.

She did but then asked, "are you sure?"

Was I? I love it when she asks this question. I have three choices that will precipitate two results. Remain silent or say 'no', and she will start spanking again. If I say 'yes', it is over.

I paused too long thinking about it and she started again. Immediately the fire was re-ignited and shortly I was begging to stop again.

"Are you sure now?" she asked again to which I quickly answered in the affirmative. She stopped and I breathed a sign of relief before relaxing every muscle in my body. She didn't let me stay that way for more than a couple seconds. "OK, get up; I have to get to sleep."

I struggled to my knees and we both got a good view of my shameful puddle on the terrycloth towel before I carefully picked it up. "Thank you for spanking me," I said sniffling while taking the paddle from her.

"You're welcome, baby," she said and yawned.