My Perfect Spanking

I was asked (on Quora) what my perfect spanking or dream scenario is. The question is maybe a little icky coming from a stranger though perhaps more so coming from a friend. Anyway, here was my attempt at an answer.

Not sure if there is a specific dream scenario anymore but whatever it is, I want to re-capture that 12 yo me with a raging libido, unquestioning respect for authority, and complete sense of shame and embarrassment in my own body. It is the me without options, without control, filled with naughty thoughts that I can't share with anyone, and dangers around every corner. I want sex so much but any experience would be short, embarrassing, likely humiliating, and almost certainly a pregnancy risk.

The reason I would be spanked has to do with my libido, arousal, hard little problem that I just can’t control. I love the idea that little Johnny’s mommy doesn’t think little boys should think sexy thoughts or masturbate so she spanks him when she thinks he is getting “distracted”. To her, John is still the little boy that needs his mommy to care for him in every way including teaching him to control his pesky little boy parts and all the dirty thoughts they create. To her, this is as natural, necessary, and sterile as when she changed his diaper just a few years ago. 

She is disappointed that it has to happen but she loves her little boy and her resolve is set. Johnny doesn't even know how to masturbate and even if he did, it would be forbidden like all sexual activity is before marriage. Though Johnny wants to do sex things with girls, he has almost no idea what those things are. The spankings are Johnny’s only opportunity to relieve his sexual energy that becomes so strong sometimes he almost welcomes them and even considers asking for them.

The spanking is scheduled resulting in a long period of anticipation before. Then I have to “prepare” which means undressing completely, getting cleaned up, and parading naked to where “mommy” will give the spanking. I would love for a little sister witness to any or all of this. 

I love the idea of standing in the room naked with a turgid urgent erection protruding from my hairless body insolently protesting that “no, mommy, I don’t want a spankee.” Just reduced to a child protesting the most childish of punishments for the “man” parts the “boy” can’t control. I want to have the smallest of tantrums complete with stomping feet, having my penis bob up down comically, clench my fists, and feel my bottom jiggle. She scowls at me and tries not to laugh at my impotent display before repeating my sentence: a big spanking until my bottom is bright red and I am crying like the baby I am acting like.

The spanking is in multiple parts starting with a light warming and then progressing through harder and more severe implements and embarrassing positions. I get just enough time between each spanking to recover and get nervous about the next one. Little sister gets to watch the whole thing including being marched from room to room, fetching implements, and every embarrassing position: over mom’s lap, bent over a chair, in the diaper position with my legs up, or draped over the ottoman. Mom uses her hand, wooden spoons, a paddle, and more to carefully paint my back door bright red while inadvertently stimulating me to produce a copious amount of pre-cum and semen.

Each spanking starts light but becomes more severe until I am in distress. The positions and implements are carefully chosen to increase the intensity with each spanking. The positions provide her with the ability to reach all the necessary parts so that I am thoroughly spanked.

I am rock hard the entire time even when the spanking is very hard and I have tears in my eyes. Soft towels are always placed strategically under my dripping penis in case of an accident. Mom and my sister comment on the color of my bottom, how much I seem to be "feeling it", and how my genitals are responding.

Eventually I am positioned in a way that presses my hard little problem against my special towels. I am not allowed to squirt without permission from mommy and as I feel the tingles build, I first ask for permission. When she tells me to wait, I try but ask again almost immediately. My requests turn to begging. Mommy always just says I need to wait and warns me that she will spank me with the hairbrush if don’t obey.

I try so hard to hold it in while mommy tells me to behave, to not disappoint her, that this is practice so that I will be a good lover to my wife, that it is important that boys learn to control their penises, and how I will be spanked so much harder if I am naughty.

My begging turns to crying in frustration and fear. Finally, I am reduced to apologizing as I announce that “it is coming out” and “I can’t hold it in.” I beg mommy to not spank with the hairbrush and finally just convulse as my orgasm takes me.

Mommy doesn’t skip a beat, switches to the hairbrush, and spanks away the good feelings of my orgasm. She spanks until I am crying and my penis is little boy soft again. The only sign of my adult self is the stinky sticky mess covering my tummy, towels, and delicate little genitals.

She doesn’t let me recover over her lap. I have to get up immediately after the last spank so everyone can see my crying face and semen cover body. I am not allowed to clean up at all or rub my bottom. If we are staying home, I have to remain naked until bed time and sit on my soiled towels to watch TV or eat dinner. If we are going out, I put my underwear on over my sticky mess, leave my face a mess, and we leave right away with me still crying as we drive to ice cream, dinner, a movie, a picnic, or friends.

Wherever we end up after my spanking, I sit gingerly on my sore bottom and if anyone asks about me, mommy always announces that I am a little out of sorts because I was just spanked.