I confuse spanking and sex inside me. For me, a spanking prolongs my arousal. The pleasure and pain mix in my head. I don’t actually like spanking for discipline if the offensive is anything besides being turned on by spanking. What is more shameful than being sexually excited when one is going to be punished?
I am warned before the spanking—long before. I will be punished merely because I want the spanking. I know I am supposed to dread this but instead I look forward to it. I’m hard all the time and oozing pre-cum into my underwear. At work, I am constantly hiding an erection. Driving is difficult because I get distracted thinking about what is to come. When I rarely soften, I feel the cool wetness that coats the head of my penis. I wonder if anyone else can see it. Did I ooze enough to soak through my underwear and my jeans? I’m ashamed to have to check. I wonder if other men are driving home right now with their attention distracted, their members erect, their bottoms tingling, worried that if a cop stops them, they will still be erect when he comes to the door?
She makes me wait at home. I explain that I’ve been hard all day thinking about the spanking and ask if I could take off my pants because the erection is uncomfortable. She thinks this is cute and she agrees. I was going to leave my underwear on but my briefs are so stained that I opt to just be naked from the waist down. Naked. Sex happens when I’m naked.
Naked is sex. Sex can only happen when people are naked. I’m naked now and my sex organ is ready to consummate. It craves its release and oozes more pre-cum in preparation for penetration. The head is a sticky mess from the day but the new pre-cum flows freely down the shaft. My wife chuckles when she sees me. She is amused that I think I am going to have sex. I’m not. My penis will be inches from her vagina but will not gain access. Her mouth and bottom will be off limits as well. She might touch me but she will probably just make me touch myself.
We eat dinner and I soften a little during preparation, eating and cleaning. Once we are finished, I am hard again and anxious. I hope that she doesn’t want to watch TV before my spanking. I need my release so I ask if she is going to spank me now. She tells me that she does want to watch some TV and that there just isn’t time to really punish me before the show starts. I try not to plead but the disappoint shows on my face.
“Well, maybe we can get started at least,” she says and reaches for a wooden spoon. She picks a light one that I know won’t hurt very much. Then she sits down on the couch in front of the TV and beacons me over. She positions me between her knees facing to her left. She makes me take off my shirt so that now I’m completely naked. My penis sticks straight out not knowing that she is going to ignore him. Instead, she cups my left cheek. She teases me with pats and scraping her fingers down my crack. She is paying attention to me and that is good. My penis bobs his approval and oozes more pre-cum that will go to waste.
She spanks me standing with her hand. She knows this is my least favorite position because my penis isn’t touching her or anything. It doesn’t hurt very much but causes me to “fuck” the air in front of me lewdly. She switches to the spoon. It is a light spoon and also won’t really hurt. She is teasing me. I have no sexual gratification in this position unless I spontaneously orgasm. I’m aroused but not that aroused. It wouldn’t take much attention to my member for me to cum, and she knows this. This part of the spanking is just to tease and embarrass me. When she decides the show is going to start, she stops. “I’m going to watch this show. Go stand someplace where I don’t have to look at your dirty penis.”
The next half hour is more torture. Now my bottom tingles. It has had a taste of the pain to come. My penis is still not satisfied and I know that being aroused this long will create a copious and probably wonderful orgasm. I want it so bad but I don’t dare touch myself.
The show ends and I hope that this means that she will finish my spanking, let me cum, and give me my painful release.
“I suppose I should probably give you the rest of your punishment now. I see your penis is still hard. What a silly man: all ready for sex but going to get a spanking instead. Tell you what, let’s just pretend I—or anyone—am going to have sex with you. Go get our KY.”
I go to the bedroom and retrieve from my night stand the KY to bring back to her. I’ll be back here a couple more times since this is where we keep the spanking implements. Once in front of her again, she instructs me to lube myself up: “I want you all shiny and oily. Don’t forget your testicles.” I am careful not to stimulate myself and I comply with a generous amount all over my sex. “If we were going to have sex, I am probably a little over dressed. I am going to go get undressed. You wait here.”
More waiting. I’m standing in the living room of the house I own naked and erect. My wife returns not naked but wearing lingerie that exposes her breasts and vagina. She is beautiful and appears also ready to consummate our marriage. “How would you like to have sex, dear?” she asks seductively. “Do you want to take me like a caveman—just throw me over the couch and fuck my pussy? Or my ass? Or do you want me to suck the cum out of you? Or do you want to be romantic and gently make love to me?”
These are trick questions but I answer that I would like to make love to her very much. “Please let me make love to you. You don’t have to spank me. I’ll do it real good, I promise,” I plead.
“No, I don’t think so. Your penis is hard, but I don’t think it will do the trick for me tonight. I think you are going to cum too soon and not make me happy. What I think will make me happy is spanking you. Hard. And a lot. I’m going to spank all the nasty cum right out of you and then I am going keep right on spanking you till you cry. Now, let’s spank that erection down a little so that we don’t make a mess in our living room.”
I knew I wasn’t going to have sex but she was so cruel. She even fingered herself a little. She walked past me into the kitchen. “Get in here,” she commanded and I walked my glistening bobbing penis into the room with her. She was already picking out a much more sturdy spoon. “Just bend over the counter there,” she pointed, “and we’ll have that naughty erection all taken care of in just a couple minutes.”
I bent over the counter and presented my still tingling bottom to my wife. She slapped my bottom a couple times with her hand and then I felt the wood of the spoon as she positioned it on her target. It was removed, a pause, and then the first real sting of night. Finally, I was getting my spanking and I was almost relived that it was starting. She spanked hard and fast. The pain built quickly and I started to squirm. I looked down to see my penis starting to droop but even as I looked, another drop of hopeful pre-cum appeared.
My wife likes to end spankings by concentrating on one cheek for a dozen swats, then the other for another dozen and then alternating again for the climax. This hurts so bad that I almost cry every time. She started on my left cheek until it was on fire and then set fire to my right. I was in distress for sure as she started alternating for the climax. Sex wasn’t on my mind as the last spanks hit. Instead, I was concentrating on a burning and stinging that overwhelmed my bottom. It seemed to burn right into my crack.
“OK, stand up. Let’s see if you are still a big man” she commanded. On shaky legs I stood and turned around to show my now only partially erect member to her. “Now you look like a bad little boy. You look like a little boy now and not like a man at all. Little boys don’t have sex with women. Little boys masturbate and get spankings. Let’s go watch you masturbate. That will be fun, won’t it?” she said putting down the spoon. “Come on. Off to the bathroom where you masturbate,” she chided.
I like bathroom spankings because they remind me of being spanked as a child. Those weren’t good memories but at least being naked and in the bathroom hearing the spanks echo off the tile is familiar and seems like the way it is supposed to be. That is where bad boys get their medicine. When I learned about masturbation, the bathroom, because of its privacy was the logical place. One day, I masturbated in the bathroom in the morning and was spanked in it by mom in the afternoon.
My wife led me to the bathroom. Her pristine and perfect white bottom beckoned me to follow. I knew mine wasn’t pale white like her’s anymore. She sat on the toilet, told me to close the door behind me (just like when a mother wants privacy while she spanks her naughty child) and motioned for me to stand by her right side. As I gazed at her aroused sex between her spread legs she said, “OK, let’s see you masturbate you bad boy.”
I don’t like to masturbate in front of my wife. She knows this and she also knows that it will take more and more arousal for me to handle the next spanking sessions. My erection was returning on its own but I helped it along. My normal style is thumb on top and two fingers below. I grasped of my member and started sliding up and down. I was so slippery from the KY that it was hard to not slide off. But it felt wonderful and I sucked in breath from the surprise of instant pleasure. It didn’t take long before I started to lose control. I imagined what it would be like to spray cum all over my surprised wife. She was watching as I rapidly was approaching an orgasm. “Stop” she demanded “Stop now” she repeated when I didn’t immediately take my hand away. I was so close. Just a little more and the tension would be released. I wanted it so bad.
“Was that fun?” she said and I nodded. “I bet it was. This isn’t about you having fun though. This is about you getting your punishment. So, get down over my knee and I’m going to spank you like the little boy you are.”
I bent over her thighs and reached to touch the floor on the other side. She kept her legs spread enough so that my erection hung freely between them. It pulsed as if it was trying to reach her pussy that was just inches away. I realized that this might be as close as my erection would get to her sex all night. My testicles were still in a tight little package like they always become just before I orgasm. I looked up and watch a drop of pre-cum slowly drip off the end of my angry erection.
She spanked me with her hand but after the spoon spanking it was enough. Soon I was that bad little boy being spanked in the bathroom while my sister listened through the door or I was that awkward teenager that got an inappropriate erection while being spanked in this exact same position in this same kind of room. The spanks echoed around me. Every squeak I made was amplified. I was so ashamed when I started squirming from just a little hand spanking. But it hurt. Whenever I got a bathroom spanking, it hurt and I usually cried. She started into the climax progression and I started to feel the usual distress and panic of a spanking that hurts too much to bear. The alternating spanks after she set fire to each of my cheeks went on longer than I expected and I started to make a lot of noise.
Then she was finished and she told me I could get up. My penis was again drooping but not soft. A few drops of pre-cum glistened on the tile floor where I had dripped. “You can clean those up, I think” she said. I got a tissue and bent over to wiped them up from the floor between her knees. Of course, I caught a glimpse between her thighs. Her lips were parted like they get when she is excited and she smelled musky. My genitals ignored the fire crackling on my bottom and started working to prepare me for sex again.
“Well, little boy, I think it is time we got out the hairbrush for you. I like how the hairbrush makes you dance. Let’s go into the bedroom for this part.”
Again she led and I followed her bottom into the room where we usually have sex. My penis was again hopeful as the man and wife walked into the room where they normally copulate. “Kneel of the bed facing the headboard” she commanded. This is another of my least favorite positions. She walked over to my night stand as I got into position and instead of taking out the hairbrush, she grabbed a small paddle. “Let’s just make sure you aren’t still thinking I’m going to have sex with you. I promise I’ll spank you with the hairbrush next.”
This wasn’t much of a consolation. Apparently she thought that I needed a paddling before my brushing.
The position where I kneel facing the headboard is like standing up for spanking except that I can sort of lean against the headboard and the wall. “OK, I want to hold yourself up with your left hand and hold onto your naughty penis with your right. But no masturbating.” I did as I was told and was rewarded with a paddle crack across both cheeks that immediately lit a fire. My hand on my penis—even if I wasn’t actively masturbating--was good and the jerk that I did to escape the paddle impact gave me some stimulation.
She spanked me with the paddle probably a dozen times and it started to really hurt. I wasn’t sure how I was going to handle the brush after this. “OK, that was fun. How is your penis now? Still ready for sex or has he figured out that isn’t going to happen? Take your hand away and let me see.”
My penis was mostly hard again and shamefully glistening with the KY and all the pre-cum. “OK, I guess we will just have to solve that problem with the brush then.” She said. “Move over and let me sit down.” I did and she sat down with her legs out straight. “Get me your hairbrush and the KY again.” I had to go out to the living room to get the KY which is a long walk when you are naked, have a throbbing erection and a burning bottom. When I got back from parading through the house, I handed her the KY and then got her my hairbrush.
“OK, kneel right her” she said patting the bed to her right. “Good, now put some more KY on your penis; it looks a little dry and I think we are going to want it very slippery for this spanking.” I did as I was told and my member nodded approval for the attention. “Now, over you go. Put your sticky sex right here on mama’s legs. That’s it. You feel so hard against my legs. Such a big man about to get a spanking like a little boy. You just cry into your pillow and we’ll have this nasty hard penis all small like the little boy you are in no time. That will be nice, won’t it? Nice and soft and none of those filthy sexy thoughts anymore.”
Then she started spanking me with her hand. There was already a burn from the paddle so this stings more than a hand spanking should but not unbearably. It is like it wakes up the sting that was already there and gives me a sort of hopeful feeling that I will be able to handle the spanking. This is by design—my wife’s evil designs, actually—as it will be enough to arouse me but not distract from the good feelings in my genitals. I twitch a little and the friction across the head of penis as it moves slightly over her thigh catches my complete attention. I am so lubed up that there really is very little sensation. It is wet, slippery and sloppy between my erection and her legs. Even my testicles slip and slide over the right side of her right thigh.
“You want to pretend you’re having sex, don’t you? You want to hump on my legs? Like that time when you were in high school and you dry-humped that girl and came all over your underwear. Remember how you had to tell her what happened? How you were pretending to have sex with her and while you were only making out.” She loved taunting me.
This really happened when I was only fifteen. We were just making out and somehow I got positioned with my legs wrapped around her left leg. It was summer and we were both wearing shorts so it was only my shorts and underwear between me and her bare leg. It took almost no time because I was so excited by kissing and hugging this beautiful girl. She tasted so good and her soft, warm body was nothing like mine.
We re-situated a little and suddenly there was contact and she sort of tensed up a little like she wasn’t sure what to think about this boy’s teenage erection pressing against her. I also tensed up but not for the same reason; it felt good. I couldn’t help it and I humped against her leg. It felt better than good and I shivered into the kiss that was rapidly falling apart. It felt too good and I did it again. I was going in for the third hump when I opened my eyes to see her looking at me curiously. I arched forward involuntarily and came inside my boxers while staring her right in the eyes. The poor girl was looking into my eyes as she felt me pulsing against her leg. I groaned, closed my eyes, and convulsed slightly. When I came out of my orgasm, I realized with horror what I had just done and quickly pulled away from the scared girl. She was a year younger than me and I knew that she was less serious than me. She just started asking half questions like “was that your thing?” and “Did you just?” and finally ended with some word like “yuck”. I don’t know which one of us was more traumatized. I told my wife this years ago and she thought it was cute how ashamed I was. I explained that it was very confusing because it felt so good but was such a shameful act. I mean, I basically had a sexual experience—my first sexual experience—against a girl who didn’t know it was happening only to completely lose control almost immediately and make a mess in my underwear. I felt like it said something about me being a pervert or bad lover or something.
Later, one night, we were out in the park looking at a meteor shower and I sort of rolled over, wrapped myself around my wife, and kissed her. I started to get erect and playfully humped against her. “What do you say we do it right here in the park?” I teased. “I don’t think that is a good idea.” She said with the seriousness of a heart attack. But I was sort of turned on by my own silly idea. I mean, we were all alone in this park with no lights. It would be so exciting to just have a quick little screw right where everyone could see us. So, I kept humping her. “Come on. It’ll be fun,” I whispered. “No way, I’m not in the mood at all. If you want to get your rocks off, I’ll lay her while you do it but I am not taking my pants off in this park,” she harshly whispered back. “Maybe I will,” I snapped back sounding all hurt.
That got her angry. “Yeah, you will. Right now. Just like this. You can make a mess in your underwear if you want. Whenever we do these little adventures, I always end up sitting in your gross stuff for hours. You do it this time. We’ll see how you like it. Come on. Do it. Get it over with,” she barked and started squirming against me. I was scared and that was exciting so I started rutting against my wife. “That’s it. Think what people would think if they saw you like this. They’d think you were sick. That you have a problem. Or that you are such an inadequate lover that your wife won’t even have sex with you. Come on, make your little mess. I am so going to make you sleep in that pair of underwear tonight. You can just wear them to work tomorrow too. You might as well remember how well you pleased your wife sexually tonight,” she chanted sarcastically.
Then—in my mind—I saw what I looked like: a grown man, clothed, and humping a fully clothed, disinterested woman. I was just a bundle of uncontrolled hormones that needed to cum so bad that he was willing to do it in his own underwear. I had a shame-filled orgasm and convulsed against her. She waited until I was finished and then with a smirk, said “you all done now? I’d like to get back to looking at the stars if you don’t need me anymore.” She was in character because she knew it worked for me. She puts up with a lot.
Here I was again: face down across my wife’s lap selfishly being punished for being, well, selfish. She probably wanted to have sex with me but knew that it would end too soon and that I need to get my spankings every now and then. She would get something later. But now, now she was just making her sick husband do his dirty business. Men have needs and men are pigs.
It felt good and it was going to end soon unless she turned on the heat. Almost like she read my mind, she moved to the hairbrush. My hairbrush has a hardwood back and its head is about five inches long and three inches wide. Wherever it lands, it creates little elliptical patches of fire. She didn’t spank hard or fast but just enough to sting me away from a premature orgasm. The delay was probably only for a minute or two but it was enough to bring me back from the brink and make me have to work harder to get back over the edge.
The hairbrush made me dance a little more which probably looked to her like I was just humping for the sake of humping. “That’s it. Do your little dirty thing.<spank> Make your little pee-pee feel good.<spank> Are you going to have your little cummy?<spank> Oh, that so cute.<spank,spank> Little baby wants to have a big boy cum.<spank> Make all those little sperms come out.<spank, spank> You can do it. <spank> Come for mommy.<spank, spank>…” she taunted. I did feel like a little boy and all my sexual and spanking misadventures rattled around in my head. One time I got an erection in the showers at school. Another time I came trying to put the condom on. I got a spanking from my mom and was erect from the time I pulled down my pants to the time I was sent to the corner. I was too young to know what it meant or be embarrassed but when I was teenager, during a spanking I got hard between her legs and kept bumping the tip of my erection into the inside of her left leg. I didn’t want to think about it at the time, but there was probably a pre-cum wet spot on her pants.
Still spanking between the taunts, she continued: “I bet it feels so good against your little soldier. He’s so cute how he wants to be all big and stuff. One day, maybe some girl will touch him. He’s too small for that now. Oh, are going to make your little cummy now? Your little cum-cum. You going to squirt a little?” I nodded. I was close. “Go ahead. I won’t spank you hard until you have your little squirt. Its OK. I won’t make you cry until it is all over. Come on, baby. You can do it. That’s my little boy. Make mommy proud.”
It was a good cum just like I thought it would be. My humping got faster and the humps shorter, and then I froze for a second before collapsing on her lap as the semen pumped out of my body. “See, I knew you could do,” and immediately, she started spanking me fast and hard. At first, I was still feeling the pleasure of the orgasm so the spanking didn’t immediately hurt but then, it suddenly chased my orgasm away and the post-coital relaxation betrayed me by making me too weak to fight it physically or emotionally.
“I can’t believe the mess you made. Do you think girls like this? Do you think this is sexy? Do you think I like having cum all over my legs?” she lectured. The pain was building intolerably and I knew she was going to make me cry. Sixty seconds or so after my orgasm, I let out a ‘ooooo’ sound and started to cry softly. “Oh my God, are you crying? What a baby you are! Are you sad that your little pee-pee is so small? Or are you sad that you only make little boy cum-cum? Did you make a mess?”
I started crying louder and the struggle came back but I could feel that the struggle was just spreading the mess underneath me. My wilting penis and all my spent seed slowly flowed to between her legs. I ground into her trying to escape the hairbrush but it kept finding targets all over my bottom. She moved to my sit spots alternating at first and then paying special attention to my right sit spot, then my left, and then, in case I wasn’t already sobbing loudly, she spanked me over and over again right on my crack above my anus. The burn radiated right between my cheeks. Then she was alternating again fast and hard. I was a mess by the time it was all over.
“OK, get up. Let’s see what kind of mess we have to clean-up.” I wasn’t ready to get up. She knew that. I wasn’t composed, the tears were still flowing and I was still sobbing. As I got to my knees, my penis pulled away from the sticky mess between her legs and though a lot stayed on her, big globs of cum coated my penis and testicles as well as all over my stomach. Of course, now I was a little boy. My manly penis was now tiny, pale and dripping. My testicles were coated with the very stuff that they used to contain. Not only that, but I was kneeling next to my wife crying. “Oh, look at this mess. I can’t believe you did this to me. Makes me want to spank you more if I thought I could stand more of you crying. Well, you made the mess, you clean it. Get down there and lick it up. Don’t look so surprised you boys always want women to swallow it. You do it. See if you like it.” I paused for a second and didn’t even see her raise her arm to spank me before the fire reignited. I burst into tears again and pleaded for her to stop. Then I was down with my face again between my wife’s legs licking my spend off her. It tasted less bad than I thought it would but I certainly wasn’t loving it.
“That’s enough. Go to your corner. No rubbing. No wiping your face. No cleaning up. You just stand there and think about what happened.”
I went to my corner and felt cum drip off my scrotum onto my legs. I was standing there for about fifteen minutes thinking when I started to get hard again. Just a little. After half an hour, I was released from my corner. I turned to face my wife with most of an erection ready to please her with. My bottom tingled as I walked to the bed where my wife lay naked and ready. She tapped the brush against her palm and asked, “you ready to try to please me?”
I mounted her and felt her reach around behind me and tap the brush against my bottom. Like a starting gun, the first crack got me moving. She set the tempo as I thrust into her. Just before she came, she stopped spanking me. I came again too shortly after her.
