Cold Walk Home

Disclaimer: This is a story of fantasy and is not only not intended to condone or approve of the behaviors contained herein, there is absolutely nothing about treating children as sexual objects that the author approves of, desires, or would dream of doing to an actual child. This work is written in the context of age based role play.

If you cannot understand this, have difficulty distinguishing fantasy from reality, or are in any way confused about what is appropriate and legal sexual expression, stop reading now.

Lastly, I am not a pedophile, don't approve of sexually assaulting children, and only use these themes in my writing because I empathize and identify with the victims of these stories; not the perpetrators. Some of us like to be embarrassed, ashamed, humiliated, spanked, and to be nervous, anxious, and afraid. Weird, right? To read more about why these stories were written, please see the "What This Blog is and is NOT -- READ THIS FIRST" post.

All that said, this story is about a precocious boy just discovering his sexuality and spanking kink, and his mother. The idea of being trapped by a set of simple decisions which lead to a situation where boundaries are crossed interests me. In this story, John manipulates his mother's rules and even religion to lure her into solving a sexual need he doesn't even recognize he has.

Like many of my stories, I wish I was little Johnny. Also, like all my stories, it is not autobiographical nor do I wish my mother or any mother would behave as she does.

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.

One Boy's Journey -- Part 8

Disclaimer: This is a story of fantasy and is not only not intended to condone or approve of the behaviors contained herein, there is absolutely nothing about treating children as sexual objects that the author approves of, desires, or would dream of doing to an actual child. This work is written in the context of age based role play.

If you cannot understand this, have difficulty distinguishing fantasy from reality, or are in any way confused about what is appropriate and legal sexual expression, stop reading now.

Lastly, I am not a pedophile, don't approve of sexually assaulting children, and only use these themes in my writing because I empathize and identify with the victims of these stories; not the perpetrators. Some of us like to be embarrassed, ashamed, humiliated, spanked, and to be nervous, anxious, and afraid. Weird, right? To read more about why these stories were written, please see the "What This Blog is and is NOT -- READ THIS FIRST" post.

One Boy's Journey -- Part 5

Disclaimer: This is a story of fantasy and is not only not intended to condone or approve of the behaviors contained herein, there is absolutely nothing about treating children as sexual objects that the author approves of, desires, or would dream of doing to an actual child. This work is written in the context of age based role play.

If you cannot understand this, have difficulty distinguishing fantasy from reality, or are in any way confused about what is appropriate and legal sexual expression, stop reading now.

Lastly, I am not a pedophile, don't approve of sexually assaulting children, and only use these themes in my writing because I empathize and identify with the victims of these stories; not the perpetrators. Some of us like to be embarrassed, ashamed, humiliated, spanked, and to be nervous, anxious, and afraid. Weird, right? To read more about why these stories were written, please see the "What This Blog is and is NOT -- READ THIS FIRST" post.

One Boy's Journey -- Part 4

Disclaimer: This is a story of fantasy and is not only not intended to condone or approve of the behaviors contained herein, there is absolutely nothing about treating children as sexual objects that the author approves of, desires, or would dream of doing to an actual child. This work is written in the context of age based role play.

If you cannot understand this, have difficulty distinguishing fantasy from reality, or are in any way confused about what is appropriate and legal sexual expression, stop reading now.

Lastly, I am not a pedophile, don't approve of sexually assaulting children, and only use these themes in my writing because I empathize and identify with the victims of these stories; not the perpetrators. Some of us like to be embarrassed, ashamed, humiliated, spanked, and to be nervous, anxious, and afraid. Weird, right? To read more about why these stories were written, please see the "What This Blog is and is NOT -- READ THIS FIRST" post.

Witnessed and Witnessed

Disclaimer: This is a story of fantasy and is not only not intended to condone or approve of the behaviors contained herein, there is absolutely nothing about treating children as sexual objects that the author approves of, desires, or would dream of doing to an actual child. This work is written in the context of age based role play.

If you cannot understand this, have difficulty distinguishing fantasy from reality, or are in any way confused about what is appropriate and legal sexual expression, stop reading now.

Lastly, I am not a pedophile, don't approve of sexually assaulting children, and only use these themes in my writing because I empathize and identify with the victims of these stories; not the perpetrators. Some of us like to be embarrassed, ashamed, humiliated, spanked, and to be nervous, anxious, and afraid. Weird, right? To read more about why these stories were written, please see the "What This Blog is and is NOT -- READ THIS FIRST" post.

The Living Room

Disclaimer: This is a story of fantasy and is not only not intended to condone or approve of the behaviors contained herein, there is absolutely nothing about treating children as sexual objects that the author approves of, desires, or would dream of doing to an actual child. This work is written in the context of age based role play.

If you cannot understand this, have difficulty distinguishing fantasy from reality, or are in any way confused about what is appropriate and legal sexual expression, stop reading now.

Lastly, I am not a pedophile, don't approve of sexually assaulting children, and only use these themes in my writing because I empathize and identify with the victims of these stories; not the perpetrators. Some of us like to be embarrassed, ashamed, humiliated, spanked, and to be nervous, anxious, and afraid. Weird, right? To read more about why these stories were written, please see the "What This Blog is and is NOT -- READ THIS FIRST" post.

Another Story About Winky

This is another attempt at adding pictures to a narrative. I apologize again for all the dick pics. 

The story is a work of fiction though my wife does spank me from time to time and when I ask for that sort of attention. Though a work of fantasy, I would love to be treated this way. I assure one and all that my wife loves me and we have a delightful, strong, and satisfying marriage in every way. Not sure why I feel it is necessary to write that but sometimes I think in this twisted world of sexual explicit material we visit, it is sometimes lost that we are normal people with normal interests, hobbies, jobs, careers, families, relationships, etc.

Something I should note, however, is that I almost believe that my sexual orientation is as a spankophile. It is what I want most and find most satisfying. Even before I knew what sex was, spanking interested me even to the point of obsession. As I grew older, I struggled to silence this part of me and just enjoy what 'normal' men were interested in: boobs, vaginas, shapely women, intercourse, blowjobs... It didn't work. I prayed for salvation even. Nothing. For decades, I lived with guilt and shame that spanking was what I wanted.

To be clear, I like all spanking. I like to spank and I like to be spanked. Gender doesn't matter. For me, spanking is sex and sex is spanking. A spanking can and perhaps should involve arousal, ejaculation, and orgasm. Admittedly this is not depicted in porn in the USA because of Meese Commission Report that won't allow BDSM and explicit sexuality in the same work.

This, then, is why I write about it. There is no porn for what I like. I have to grow my own, as it were.

All that to say, enjoy another of Winkie's adventures.

---

Simply put, "no squirties without spankees."

I should explain. Even though I'm all grown up, I still just have a little boy penis:

My wife says he is cute but not really big enough for sex. He's doesn't get big enough and when we used to have sex, I would pop too soon. It wasn't any fun for her so we don't do that anymore.

Of course, I want to still but she doesn't think I deserve to even have a hard penis much less orgasm and ejaculate. Her reasoning is that if she can't use my penis, neither should I.

As you can imagine, it didn't take long before she noticed me being hard, and then not. She also discovered that my pajamas would have crusty spots on the front from when I would have wet dreams or would just hump a pillow to make my "morning wood" go away.

She said that little boys that are naughty with their pee-pees should get spankees. Not spankings: spankees. She didn't want me to think that I was a big boy getting a big boy punishment. Nope, just a little boy getting a little spankee on his boom-boom for being a naughty little boy with his naughty little pee-pee.

It was really difficult for me at first especially because my little 'spankees' were really hard and sometimes made me cry. One time, we were just spooning in bed and my penis got hard against her bottom. I tried to be really still so she wouldn't notice but I was wearing flannel pajamas and, well, I couldn't hide what happened next.

I apologized right away. Before it happened even, I said, "oh no, I'm sorry," and I even sounded like a little boy. Then it was happening and it was so fast too. Just squirt, squirt, squirt and all done. I rolled away and it was just like a flashback to when I was a little boy.

Before I even knew what masturbation or sex was, I would wake up humping my mattress in the morning. My penis would be tingling and then I would feel really good. Then, I would lay still for a few minutes waking up more before almost always realizing how bad I had to pee. I would usually run to the potty.

One day, it felt different and even better at the end. When I rolled out of bed, my pajama bottoms were a little bit wet. I figured a little pee had escaped. Next day, the same thing. After a while, it didn't even bother me that my bottoms were a little bit sticky in the morning and crusty at night. Boys are like that: totally oblivious to the obvious.

Funny thing was, that was in winter when I would wear my red flannel pajamas. When it was warm, I wore the thin lightblue bottoms only. They weren't as soft so it wasn't as nice to rub the bed in the morning and when I got up, I realized there was an obvious wet spot that I couldn't hide from the rest of the family.

That was the end of humping the bed and I figured out masturbation pretty quick after that. That is until the following fall when the red flannel pajamas came back out.

At first, it was how good they felt in the morning against my morning hard penis that surprised me. Then one day, I did my bed humping again, and it just felt right and wonderful. Then I was getting hard putting them on before bed. I was even humping the bed both before I fell asleep and when I woke up in the morning. The wet spot would be covered mostly by my pajama top and the dark red plaid nicely hid the evidence of my masturbatory activities. Most days, I would wear my pajamas to breakfast or longer with the cool wet spot tickling my tummy as it slowly dried. Though I could smell my acrid semen, I figured no one else could or could identify what it was they smelled. I was washing my pajamas a lot because they would get crusty and not feel as good. A soft warm pair fresh from the dryer was amazing and I couldn't wait after putting them on to get into bed and take care of business.

And speaking of 'business', I wouldn't masturbate any other way. Considering that I was ejaculating twice a day most of the time, I didn't really need to. When I did get the urge during the day, it became fun to wait until bedtime. My parents loved that I wouldn't argue about going to bed on time.

Then I was getting a hard-on just seeing flannel pajamas. At a department store one time, I walked by a pajama display and was instantly erect. I didn't make a scene but I knew enough to know that what was happening in my pants was something I didn't want to advertise to my mommy or anyone else in the store. Of course, even fully erect, my hard little penis wasn't really going to show through my jeans.

If I was alone in the house, I would sometimes put on my pajamas and then find something to hump until I squirted. It felt naughty and that made it even better. I made rules like that I couldn't change until I was dry or that I couldn't close the drapes while I did my humping. It made it all riskier, naughtier, and more exciting.

It never took very long but there would be a moment when I would know that I could still stop but that in just a few seconds, I wouldn't be able to and the inevitable would happen. As bad as it looked to be humping the couch cushions, the arm of the chair, or even just the fluffy shag rug, I knew that in a couple seconds, I was going to be very obviously convulsing in orgasm and that would look really bad. Anyone that looked in the window or came home would see one exceedingly naughty little boy doing something very naughty indeed. I would glance at the window not sure if I did or did not want to see someone looking in before collapsing into my orgasm.

Of course, the risk was higher when others were home and the risk seemed to make it better. Any time I could be wearing my pajamas around the house like on a weekend morning or while watching TV late in the evening, I would be in my comfy flannel pajamas. When I thought I had the room to myself, I would get busy.

The most risky time was when I was watching TV with my older sister one night. During a commercial, she ran to the bathroom and I immediately rolled over on the couch and started humping a throw pillow. My penis was quickly erect and tingling in no time but I was very worried she was coming back so I stopped and got back sitting but with my hard little penis slightly tenting the front of my pajamas.

During the show and with her sitting a chair just three feet to my right, I marveled that my hardness was hidden by the folds of my trusty red flannel pajama bottoms and the matching button down top. Even when it pulsed and throbbed, the flannel just barely moved but gently tickled the tip. The teasing kept me aroused and wanting.

I stayed hard and thoroughly distracted hoping she would have to pee again. Luckily, she was drinking a huge glass of iced tea and nature called at another commercial break. I needed my relief but I froze momentarily in fearful indecision. Deciding a little stimulation was better than none, I rolled into position on my throw pillow lover and with my legs spread wide and hands holding tightly to the back of the couch, I ground my hard little penis into the soft pillow.

From behind, there could be no doubt what I was doing and I knew how wrong it was. My parents and our church very clearly and loudly taught that sex was only between a husband and a wife. Though no one talked about masturbation, I assumed that it was sex and since I wasn't married, this was just as bad. In other words, it wasn't like my sister was going to walk into the room and laugh if she caught me doing this; I was going to be in big trouble.

That fear of getting caught and the repercussions if I did almost caused me to get caught. The fear excited me but also distracted me. The excitement drove me on but the fear delayed the inevitable. I twisted around almost instinctively to check for witnesses when I knew I could still stop. The doorway was clear but I heard the toilet flush. I knew I had only seconds before being discovered so I was giving up but it was like my penis knew it was now-or-never. I rolled back to sitting on the couch but felt my orgasm slowly and inevitably building as I did so. I willed it not to happen but my will was no match for my libido. I fluffed my pajama top to be better cover my throbbing erection.

It was one of the slowest and longest orgasms of my life or at least seemed to be. I froze in place feeling the tingling at the tip of penis spread down my legs and up my stomach and even my nipples tingled. I kept from shaking best I could and tried to keep my face relaxed. She was going to be in the room at any second but it wasn't until she was in the room when my penis finally start spurting. I gasped and quickly looked up to see if she noticed what was happening to me. Apparently it looked like I was startled and she jokingly apologized for sneaking up on me. "Oh, it's OK," I said in a strained voice as semen filled my pajama bottoms.

After my penis softened, I surreptitiously inspected the mess when I was sure she wasn't looking. Probably because I was sitting when it happened, there was a surprisingly small wet spot on my bottoms and even that was easily covered by my long pajama top. I didn't dare look inside but I could feel a puddle of semen on my stomach. Some of it was starting to flow to the right. I thought maybe if I re-positioned, I could keep it more contained but when I propped myself up, it all started to flow down toward my soft penis and sagging testicles. Next thing I knew, I felt warm fluid flow around my scrotum and collect at the top of my thighs which I kept tightly together.

The smell of semen filled the air and for one of the first times, I associated the acrid odor with my own emissions. The excitement, fear, shame, and a thoroughly amazing orgasm was imprinted on my mind. I was never as close to being caught again after that and it wasn't until after my wife made the rule that I even had another orgasm where I wasn't stimulating myself while it happened.

If I didn't have a fetish for flannel pajamas before that night, I did afterwards. All the components came to be associated with the red flannel. I got a pair that year on Christmas morning and my reaction was genuine joy but also an embarrassing and difficult to hide hard-on.

Over the years, I started to feel a little ashamed that I was squirting into my pajamas all the time. The wet spot on my pajamas would stick to my penis and when I moved to get out of bed or just rollover, it would get all over my stomach. Worse yet, my mommy was so moved by how much I loved my Christmas present of red flannel pajamas that she got me a new pair every year and still does. Now I just get an erection whenever I open a present from my mom.

Even today, my favorite pajamas are red flannel:

As I rolled away from my wife that night, I was transported back to when I was just a little masturbating boy having his own semen smear all over his tummy before going to sleep. I didn't get to go to sleep yet that night though. No, I had to get up, clean myself up, rinse off the mess I made in my pajamas, and then fetch the hairbrush. My spankee that night was super hard. I went to sleep on my tummy. With horror, I woke up the next morning hard as a diamond and gently humping the bed. My sore bottom convinced me to stop that right away.

Since that spankee, I've been very careful because 'unauthorized emissions', as she calls them, receive the harshest punishment. She almost never gives me permission to make my squirties but if I ask first and show her my hard little problem, she doesn't seem to spank as hard or maybe it is because at least part of my spanking happens before the squirts come out.

Most of the time, I can just think about something else and my hard little guy will get soft again. Then I'll have a day that is difficult. Sexy thoughts will invade my thinking and make me get an erection. Of course, I know that my bottom will get a spankee but that doesn't help me get control. Quite the opposite.

The spankees do hurt but a spankee means that I get to squirt. It is all getting twisted together in my head. A red bottom means a happy penis. The more I need my little orgasm, the more the cost to my bottom seems like a small price to pay.

And that is how we get to today. My little guy needs his relief. He's hard all the time and I can't think of anything besides sexy things. It is starting to hurt even.

I went to the bathroom to think about what will happen next and took this picture:

This is as hard as he gets. Just a couple strokes and the squirts would happen. I want to so bad but that would be too naughty.

She's sitting in the family room. I've got my towel and the hairbrush. My bottom tingles in anticipation and my little guy is twitching.

I'm just going to leave him sticking out. She will think that is silly and cute but also naughty. My PJs will be off soon enough. I only get spankees completely naked. She will spank me in a couple different positions like standing up or on all fours. She will say that she is seeing if I will get soft. She knows I won't and even makes fun of how I twitch, throb, and hump the air while she spanks me.

After my bottom is warmed up and red, and my penis is still hard, one of a couple things will happen. She might just send me to potty to go make my squirties. Or she might just make me do it right in front of her. Either way, she will tell me to hurry up and if I do it in front of her, she will just 'tsk-tsk' when it happens and say how dirty and icky it is. If I'm in the potty, she will sometimes stand outside knocking and asking how it is going, if I'm done yet and telling me to hurry up.

If I am lucky and I am usually lucky, thank goodness, she will put the towel over her thighs and let me lay down over her lap. Then, she will spank me--but usually not too hard--until the squirts come out. I don't know why, but I like that best.

Still, it doesn't matter how the squirts come out because after they are out, I always get a super hard spanking with the hairbrush. It hurts really bad and sometimes I even will cry. It is all embarrassing but crying is the worst. I don't feel like a man at all. It is like it gets stripped right off me and I'm just a little boy again. My penis is soft, my bottom burns, my eyes leak tears, and I beg and plead for forgiveness and mercy.

When it is over, she will sometimes just hug me before I go clean up but other times she'll want me to give her an orgasm with my tongue. She will tap the brush threateningly against the open palm of her left hand as I get in position. I haven't failed yet so I don't know if the threat is real and hope to never find out.

Spanked In the Family Room

It really is all my fault that I got in this predicament. Mom was always strict with me growing up. Strict but fair, of course, but when I was naughty, there were spankings. The spankings happened whenever and wherever and as soon as possible after the naughtiness occurred. All my relatives saw mom spank me stark naked in the living room, family room, kitchen, back yard, front yard, all through my childhood. 

When I hit puberty at about 11 or 12, I shaped up and got wise. There were fewer spankings and then it was like I forgot how to be bad. My little sisters got some spankings but not as many as I used to. 

I graduated from high school and went to college. Though I eventually graduated, I didn't do well. I drank too much and screwed around the whole time. It took me six years to get a worthless degree and I came home alone, broken and desperate for a place to live. Mom and dad took me in. Dad is super sweet, easy going, and massively successful. I know I disappointed him but he wasn't in my face about things. Mom, however, was less amused. 

The first couple months were just like college. I drank and played video games pretty much all the time. I wasn't a part of the family, didn't look for a job, and really wasn't going anywhere quickly. Mom gave me a couple months of rope and then started to pull me back in. 

At first, she just talked but when nothing changed, there were threats of being kicked out. That worked for a couple weeks and I at least looked like I was job searching. Then I went back to my video games and beer. 

I woke up at 3 PM one day to my mom packing up my room. She said I was being kicked out unless things changed immediately. I started begging to not be kicked out and pretty soon was basically begging for help. I didn't know how to change. I had all these bad habits that I needed to unlearn. We talked for a while and she said that I needed discipline and structure. I needed to learn that there were consequences to bad decisions and behavior. I just nodded my head and cried silent tears. 

"When you were a little boy, you needed to be spanked to behave. You would just keep on being bullheaded and stubborn until your bottom was blistered. I think you need the same punishments today the exact same way. What do you think about that? If you are going to live in this house, you need to pull your weight, be a part of the family, do your chores, and if you don't, you will be spanked like a naughty boy. Can you live like that?" she asked. 

I was in shock but I didn't see another option. "I guess so," I said hoping it was just a threat. 

"OK, then I expect to see this room cleaned up before dinner," she said. 

Of course, my room was a colossal mess and cleaning it up in a week was going to be tough. I don't think she knew that, actually. I got up, cleaned up, and started working on my room. I actually made some good progress but it clearly wasn't going to happen by dinner. I got lost in a graphic novel I had forgotten about and had found at the bottom of a pile of junk. Mom walked into my still messed up room and caught me reading the comic book. 

"Well, it is time for dinner and clearly you didn't take me seriously," she said sounding both angry and disappointed. "Dinner is ready now. We can take care of your spanking after we eat," she added very matter-of-fact and walked out the door letting those words hang ominously in the room. 

It seemed like a bad idea to be late for dinner after that so I jumped up and surprised everyone by being not only at dinner, but on time even. Mom didn't keep my spanking a secret and announced to everyone's surprise that I would get a spanking after dinner was cleaned up (by me) in the family room. My little sister, Sarah, who is only 10 asked the question everyone was wondering, "can we watch?" 

"Of course, dear," mom said sweetly and with a big disarming smile. 

I nervously cleaned up dinner and then walked to the family room where everyone seemed to be watching TV. The second I walked in, mom clicked off the TV and curiously, no one complained. "OK, John-John, come here," she said pointing in front of her. "Take off your shirt," she said while reaching for my belt. I pulled off my t-shirt as she struggled with my belt and then button and zipper. I flashed back to when I was a little boy and she would pull down my pants before my spankings. 

Sure enough, my jeans came down and then her fingers were in the waistband of my underpants and they were pulled down to below my knees as well. The shock of almost immediately being naked in front of my mother, father, and two sisters shocked me. I whined, "Mom, no," and blushed all four of my cheeks. 

"Oh hush, if you are going to act like a little boy, you are going to treated like one. Now over my lap right now," she commanded. 

I was happy to hide my penis from everyone against my mother's thighs. My sisters were giggling pretty much continuously and I could only assume why. 

That spanking wasn't very bad which was itself a problem. Because it didn't hurt too much but was so embarrassing, I found myself almost enjoying the good feelings I got on my penis when I squirmed. The spanking didn't last long enough for me to be stimulated to orgasm but when I stood up, my little feller was rock hard. Mom was as surprised as anyone. 

"Well, that didn't used to happen when you were younger. I guess we will have to spank you harder and longer now," was all she said. My sisters were still giggling. 

The room got cleaned up, of course. And things went well for a while but then I started to slack off again. I still hadn't found a job. Then I forgot to do some chores, and I got another spanking. That time I had to take off my clothes and come to the kitchen for my spanking. We were the only ones home and she used the wooden spoon. I got an erection as soon as the spanking was announced and it never waned. It was so strange walking through the cool and quiet house completely naked with my erect penis pointing the way. I stopped outside the kitchen for a second staring down in disbelief directly at my upturned member. He seemed to stare right back at me. With a resigned sigh, I walked into the kitchen. Mother just smiled at me and my hungry, raging hard-on. 

She sat in a kitchen chair in the middle of the room and spanked with her hand at first. I couldn't believe how good my erection felt against her soft thighs covered only in thin sweat pants. Suddenly, I realized that I was going to cum and I panicked. Just before it happened, I stuttered an "oh no, no," and then felt myself lose control and start squirting. I was mortified but mom just kept on spanking. 

"I thought that might happen. Don't worry, I can throw these old sweat pants in the wash. No problem." Then she picked up the wooden spoon off the floor and set my bottom on fire. Again, I flashed back to a time when I was a little boy squirming in distress over mommy's lap. It was just like old times. Through my tears, I saw drops of my semen drip from between her thighs onto the tile floor. 

I cried in pain and embarrassment. Who wants to have an orgasm in front of their mother? Worse yet, she didn't just see it, she caused it even. I lost control over her lap. My erection was touching her when it happened. In fact, her sex was just inches from where I squirted. But the worst part was that it was a wonderful orgasm. The spanking just made it last longer and be so much more intense than my normal masturbation experiences. 

I was pretty upset by this turn of events. Mom made me stand in the corner after my spanking. My bottom burned for a while and then just tingled. My penis slowly drained and leaked onto my legs and feet. I was released from my time-out just before my sister's came home and I actually had to run to my room as they were walking in so I wasn't seen. 

The whole thing was so confusing to me. Suddenly I wanted another intense orgasm but I was still dreading the spanking. My masturbation fantasies started involving spanking. I would wonder what it would feel like to hump whatever mom was wearing. Dress, pants, apron, jeans, wool, cotton, nylon, silk, whatever. 

I was tempted to misbehave to get a spanking but I didn't think that was right. She's my mom, after all. I was a model son but eventually I screwed up. She was wearing the sweatpants again when she told me to get ready for my spanking. It was in the kitchen again but this time my sister--the older one--was home. She was so excited by my predicament that she waited at my bedroom door for me. She walked behind me to the kitchen basically skipping in glee. 

I was so embarrassed but still, I was eager to have my happy time over mom's lap. And it didn't disappoint. I knew as I went over her lap that I was going to have no trouble having an orgasm and that I was going to squirt a massive load into her lap. It went through my mind that I might even ruin the sweatpants if this happened often enough. 

It was wonderful when my orgasm happened after just a couple dozen spanks and then it was terrible as the realization of what I had just done replaced the anticipation of the thing and the pain replaced the awesome pleasure. Of course, it was even worse when it was over and I got to stand in the corner as mom explained the mess to Lydia. 

Before a spanking in front of Sarah, mom explained what was likely to happen while I stood naked waiting patiently. My penis bobbed in the air in anticipation all through the description. 

Then the first family party happened. It was a BBQ at a cousin's house and I wasn't the one spanked. A seven year old cousin was spanked but it wasn't a big drawn out event. Her mother escorted her firmly into the house, calmly pulled down her shorts and panties, tossed her over her knee, and gave her a bottom a couple quick smacks. It mostly just got her attention. The little girl cried a little but then was back playing again in a couple minutes. 

Unfortunately, my mom had been drinking a little and decided to tell everyone how my spankings were really turning my life around. Things had been turning around and I couldn't really deny that the spankings weren't helping. I had a job and I was working out. I looked better and clearly felt better about myself. 

Mom was explaining the whole thing about how I had to be naked while I waited for my spanking and how sometimes afterwards I would have to do some time-out. I was hoping she wouldn't describe everything but she was on stage so she talked about how my sisters would sometimes get to watch and, of course, to my utter horror, how I would be erect before my spankings, ejaculate during, and then be limp and sticky afterward. I was blushing furiously during all this and especially when we were both congratulated for how great everything seemed to be going. 

Eventually someone asked something about what would happen if I was bad at a party and mom replied that it wouldn't matter who was there because a child needs to know that they will be punished no matter who witnesses. My stomach sank and I felt a little sick. I could have been spanked just like my cousin just was but I was pretty sure it wouldn't be a couple little slaps on my bottom away from the rest of the party guests. 

Even more to my horror, everyone agreed with her. There was some talk about how if a child is naughty in front of guests, they should be punished right then even if it is embarrassing. They chose that time to act up and they should have to deal with the consequences of that choice. I quietly just sipped my beer and ate my food. The BBQ was fun but I sensed that I was the topic of every conversation. I was happy when we left. 

Things were going well but I still got spankings sometimes. Mom's black sweatpants were getting a real workout. I found that if I could hold off longer, that it felt even better and the spanking didn't hurt as much or at least it didn't seem to hurt for as long. But that was difficult to do. One time, I had to wait for longer than normal. Mom told me to get ready and then got a phone call. I just stood in the kitchen while she talked but my sisters enjoyed the opportunity to really inspect my hard penis. No one touched me but it had been a long time since I had ejaculated and I really wanted to. They were studying me and making comments while I just stood there flexing involuntarily making drops of pre-cum form at the tip and run down my shaft. 

Finally, she hung up, took her seat, and called me over. My sisters took positions right in front of her knees so that they could watch everything. As I stood to her right, mom took a look at my straining erection and said, "looks like it is ready to pop." I just nodded and shivered a little. 

She gestured over her lap and I realized that I wasn't even going to make it that far. Just the thought of taking the position--the anticipation of the soft fabric on my sensitive glands--was enough to send me over the edge. I couldn't move at all but just looked at her and said, "mommy," in the littlest little boy voice just as my orgasm hit and a big spurt of semen erupted from my twitching penis. It arced only a little landing on her lap before being followed by lesser spurts and then a pulsing flow that followed the path the pre-cum had taken earlier. 

As far as orgasms were concerned, it wasn't very good or very satisfying. My sisters were astonished, however, and my mother seemed pretty amused. "Well, I guess that is all taken care of then," she said smiling as I shivered. "You need to learn to control yourself better. Come on, over you go," she said as she pulled me off my suddenly rubbery legs and onto the mess I made on her thighs. 

That spanking hurt right from the beginning. I tried never to let that happen again. It also precipitated a couple changes as well. Mom thought I needed to learn self-control. She said that if I was ever going to be a man, I needed to be able to control myself and that until I could, I wouldn't be allowed to have any pubic hair. I was upset and we had a little fight about it. The eventual compromise was that I could keep some short hair above my genitals but that my penis and scrotum had to be shaved clean every day. I hate to admit it, but it was a constant reminder that I was being taught by my mother to be a man in every way. 

Mom also wanted me to ask for permission before I ejaculated. Always. If I needed to masturbate, I had to ask her for permission to do so. That sounded horrible but I had no idea how horrible until the first time I got up the courage to ask. Worse yet, she could say 'no' and I was supposed to try and hold it in until she allowed me to. I thought at first that this meant that during my spankings I had to beg her to let me squirt. I was right and wrong about that. 

About a week after the new rule was in place, I really wanted to masturbate. Truth be told, I real wanted to masturbate the day after, but I was afraid to cheat and I didn't want to seem like a pervert. Before this, I was basically jacking off at least once every day. After a couple days, I was going a little crazy and after a week, I was hard so much that it was starting to hurt. Worse yet, I had caught a glimpse of my youngest sister's naked bottom when her towel slipped after her shower.  It had made me super horny. 

In my overly aroused state, I decided to bite the bullet and ask for permission to masturbate. Mom was, of course, in the kitchen. I put on my robe over my pajamas and hid my erection reasonably well and sought her out. Unfortunately, my teenage sister, Lydia, was there too eating breakfast. 

"Mom," I whispered standing as close to her as possible. 

"Yes?" 

"Can I, um, masturbate this morning?" I whispered again. 

She paused for a second before saying, "Yes, I think that would be fine. One second." Then she wiped off her hands on the dish towel. "OK, let's go." 

I looked at her in shock. "To your room, I suppose or did you just want to do it here?" she asked. 

By now, we had Lydia's attention but she didn't know what we were talking about. I decided that the lesser of all possible evils at this point was to at least move the conversation to my room so I said, "my room," and quickly led the way. 

It wasn't a long walk but my mind was racing as I tried to comprehend what was apparently about to happen. Once in my room with the door closed behind us, I quickly said, "I don't want you to watch. I just wanted permission." 

"I know this is embarrassing, dear, but I think it is for your own good. Just do what you normally would but don't squirt until I tell you that you can," she patiently explained. 

I wasn't happy but I was ferociously horny. It didn't look like I was going to win and losing seemed bad but I was having trouble doing the math as to exactly why. I nervously started to get undressed which involved removing my robe and my pajama bottoms. Then I walked over to my desk and got a couple tissues and then knelt on the floor with my knees spread. I am not sure why I like kneeling like this but sometimes it makes me feel like the position I would be in if I was having sex with a girl doggy-style. 

Mom was quiet as I held the tissues in my left hand and lightly started to stroke my now hairless erection with my right. "Oh," I said involuntarily. It wasn't going to take long and after just seconds I felt like I was about to pop. I looked at her pleadingly, "Can I, please?" I asked desperately. "Can you what?" she asked me calmly. 

In a panic, I blurted out, "Please, can I cum now?" 

"Not yet, dear," she said calmly. 

I loosened my grip and slowed my stroking almost to a stop. "Mom, please, I really need to," I pleaded. 

"You can do it, baby. Just hold back a little longer." 

"Mommy, please" I whined. 

"You wait until I give you permission or you will be getting a spanking. Now, you just hold it in," she commanded with authority. 

I closed my eyes and shivered. I was right on the edge and I had to stop stroking altogether. The seconds ticked by but the sensation continued to build even with just my hand holding myself. The tissues in my left hand tickled the head of my penis. 

It felt like minutes but was probably just 15 seconds or so. The perfect bottom of my sister after her shower this morning invaded my mind again. I looked up at my mother, "Mommy, can I cum now?" I whispered, "please, oh no, please, mommy, please." 

"OK, baby, go ahead," she said after a tantalizing pause. 

I stroked just once and started convulsing as I shot a week's worth of pent up cum into the tissues. It must have been quite the sight. I ended up hunched over sitting on my heels breathing like I had nearly downed. 

"Good boy," mom said pulling me back to reality. "See you at breakfast," she smiled, opened the door, and left me to enjoy my afterglow. 

I didn't masturbate nearly as often as I did before and I did cheat sometimes, but I always felt bad about it. Mom witnessed most of my orgasms. She wasn't cruel about making me wait but she made me take my time. Of course, this made my orgasms better and I got better at holding myself right at the edge. 

It was Thanksgiving that year that I wanted to write about. I had been really good for weeks but for some reason, I hadn't put a priority on Thanksgiving and the family. The party was at our house and everyone was coming over. The problem with being reliable and trustworthy most of the time is that people stop checking up on you. I had a short list of things that I needed to do but work had me distracted. In the end, I missed a couple things and one of them was important. Mom and dad--even dad--were disappointed and a little angry when they realized that I screwed up. 

I moved quickly before anyone arrived to make things right but just couldn't make it happen. The family arrived and I was still struggling to solve a couple problems at the store. I got home and everyone was there. I brought in the last minute groceries and was putting it all away when mom found me. "We've told everyone that you need a spanking and asked if it is OK if we do it while they are here," she said looking stern. My stomach dropped through a the floor. "Get this all put away, then go to your room and get ready. Come back here when you are naked." I sensed that there was no point is arguing so I just nodded but I think my eyes told how sad and sorry I was. 

I did the best I could to not make her more angry. The older girls were in my teenage sister's room when I walked by. The rest of the children were in the family room. Most people were in the den watching the game. I had to walk by everyone on my way to my room which meant that I would soon be walking back naked past them all. 

I know better than to stall but I had to pee so I did stop for that. I was totally hard and it was tricky to manage but it finally worked. Then, in my room, I took everything off and folded it up neatly. I didn't want to make her mad thinking that I was stalling but my penis was so hard and just begging to be touched. I knew that as soon as I left my room, it would be hands off for a long time. I cupped my testicles for a second feeling the smooth hairless skin of my scrotum pulled tight against the precious treasure. Even the skin between my legs was soft and hair free. With my legs spread a little, I allowed my fingers to graze back to my rectum. I wondered if anyone would see its wrinkles today and shivered at the thought. Finally, I gave my erecting a long, soft and slow stroke from the base to the head. It throbbed powerfully in my hand causing my knees to buckle. I took my hand away quickly for fear of triggering a mess that would be very difficult to explain. 

I was clearly aroused. I tried to calm myself, took a deep breath and started back toward the kitchen. The girls were, of course, waiting for me to pass their room. Which I did as quickly as possible. I heard a cousin say, "He has a hard-on," and my sister reply, "He always does before his spankings," and then something else which I missed. 

I don't think the adults saw me pass the den because the game had their attention at the moment but as I got near the family room, one of the little boys was coming toward me and saw me. "Why aren't you wearing clothes?" he asked. 

"Mom said I needed to get a spanking and I always have to be naked for my spankings," I answered. I didn't know where to put my hands. I never do. I wanted to cover up but that isn't allowed so I just stood there having this uncomfortable conversation with my hands flat against my thighs. 

"Wow," he said thoughtfully. "My mom just pulls my pants down. Sometimes I even get to keep my underpants up." He stared right at my erection and it stared right back at him. "Your penis is big like my dad's," he pondered. I had no response to that. "Sometimes mine gets hard like that too." 

I was getting uncomfortable talking about my sexually aroused penis which was literally throbbing and oozing pre-cum at a little with a child that was staring at it at eye level. "Um, I have to go find mom or she is going to be even madder at me," I tried to excuse myself. 

"OK, see you later," he said and turned to go into the family room. I was suddenly aware that I had an audience of three teenage girls behind me. I walked past the family room of children playing unnoticed but just as I got out of eyesight I heard my cousin talking to someone in the room about his naked cousin in the hallway. This was not going well. 

Mom was busy with a couple other women in the kitchen when I got there. She didn't even notice me for a second but then turned to my aunt and said, "See, I told you he would have an erection." 

My aunt gave me a look over and said, "well, how about that. He looks more than erect, I'd say." She was right, of course. I had been leaking pre-cum and the head was sort of bluish. My testicles were a pulled tight inside my scrotum. Of course, I wasn't just erect but actually pointing up. I couldn't help but flex as she stared at me causing a drop of pre-cum to ooze out. 

"Yes, he will have an ejaculation during the spanking," my mother said. "But, I am busy for the moment so he is just going to have to wait." Handing me the big spoon I usually get spanked with, she said, "go wait in the family room, John. I'll be there in just a few minutes." 

I didn't know what to expect so this was no worse that anything else I suppose. I was hoping that we would go to my room or my parents' room but I didn't really think that was going to happen. I just took the spoon from her and said, "OK" before turning and walking out. 

In the hallway, I was suddenly face to face with the three teenage girls two of which seemed pretty shocked to see me. "I have to go wait in the family room," I offered. They parted, let me through, and then followed. 

"See, he's naked," I heard when I walked in. Apparently there had been some debate. The questions came fast and furious: "Are you getting a spanking?" "Were you bad?" "Is your mom going to spank you with that spoon?" "Why is your penis hard?" Most of the questions were easy to answer but I was still having trouble keeping up. Other kids were saying things like "I bet that is going to hurt" and others were speculating about whether I would cry or not and how red my bottom would get. Eventually, of course, everyone ended up focusing again on my mystifying erection. I was compared to their fathers' or brothers' or themselves. 

Eventually, one of my cousins admitted that I was a lot bigger than he was and pulled down his pants to prove it. He had a little pink boner that was cute but looked fragile. Another boy said his was different and quickly displayed his flaccid member. Cousin number one quickly said that he looked like that sometimes too. Then a little girl had her dress up and panties down saying that she didn't have one. It wasn't sexy but it was pretty funny for the moment. 

But then it hit me that I was sexually aroused as only an adult could be yet I was in a room of children because I was being treated like one. My raging erection was supposed to attract a mate. The oozing pre-cum would assist in penetration ensuring that my penis would sink deep into her fertile canal. My testicles were pulled up out of harm's way as they prepared to release their plentiful semen. I was the textbook page of working adult male anatomy, sex, and mating. My partner should be a nubile young woman with wide hips, thick lips, mature vulva, vagina, and breasts. Instead, I was playing I'll-show-you-mine-if-you-show-me-yours with a bunch of children that had no idea what the parts were for. 

Mom walked in and told everyone to get dressed unless they wanted to get spankings too. That got a reaction in a hurry. She walked over to couch, sat down, straightened her dress and apron, and waved me over. 

I walked over nervously. One day, I hoped to stand naked in a bedroom with a beautiful woman on the bed and be beckoned over to her. I could only hope that I would have as strong an erection when that happens. I approached my mother instead lewdly pointing my sex at her face. "OK, ready for your spanking?" she asked while staring right at the tip of my penis as it oozed a little more clear lubrication. 

"Yes, mom. I'm sorry," I said quietly handing her the big spoon. Empty handed, I was again unsure what to do with my hands and just opened and closed them at my sides. 

"You know the rules. Nothing is different just because your cousins are here. Ask permission before you squirt. No rubbing your bottom afterwards. No cleaning up your penis or face. And no clothes until I say, OK?" 

"I understand. I'll be good, I promise." I was fidgeting because I was so nervous, embarrassed, and excited. All those eyes on me just made me want to hide. At least now I had a big grown up man's erection. Pretty soon, I was going to be a crying little boy with a red bottom and a little sticky hairless penis again. It dawned on me as I was standing there that I was probably going to have a wonderful orgasm and that they were all going to see it. I might be able to delay it a little but I wouldn't be able to stop it and I didn't want to. I felt full. Something inside me was overflowing. Just standing there, more pre-cum oozed out. 

Mom was enjoying my predicament. She could tell that I just wanted lay over her lap and get started. The sooner we got the show on the road, the sooner I would get to have my little fun. I looked at her apron and thought about how it was going to look with a puddle of my sperm on it. 

"Are you ready for a big spanking?" she asked. I nodded. "Don't be afraid to cry." I nodded again as my cock flexed another drop of pre-cum that started to run down the shaft. It was like my penis was crying already. 

"OK, over you go, naughty boy," she said while guiding me over. She was sitting against the back of the couch so when I was over her lap, my face was on the arm rest on one side and my shins were on the other. 

The canvas of her apron was a new sensation. It felt cool, coarse and unforgiving. Still, it was stimulating and I had to concentrate to not squirt the second my penis touched it. The wood of the spoon tapped my right cheek twice and then was gone. The room was silent just before the first crack of the wood on my backside. I involuntarily jumped and said an obligatory "ow". I felt like I was on stage and supposed to act like a naughty boy getting a spanking. I twitched involuntarily at the second spank on my left cheek. My glands moved slightly spreading the slick lubricant oozing from the little slit in an attempt to make ready the object of my passion--my mommy's lap--for my vain coupling. Nerve endings fired and I realized I would have to be still or I would lose control. 

I was still for the next couple spanks. My jiggling bottom absorbed the impact of the little stinging bites. I could tell she was painting her naughty target top to bottom and side to side. It would take a couple passes before it would really start to hurt. For the moment, it wasn't so much painful as embarrassing to feel my bottom bounce and jiggle. 

"That's right, John-John, hold still while I spank away your naughty. You are going to be a good little boy soon," mom cooed. I answered with one of the words and sounds I only make when I am getting a spanking. They are combinations of 'ow' and 'oh' and 'no' whined in a high voice. Even though I was being still, my penis was twitching and throbbing as it enjoyed the pressure between my stomach and mom's thighs. 

The good feelings in my penis were drawing my attention. It felt like the impact of the spoon was adding to the pressure inside me. It wanted out and I wanted to feel it come out. This was the man part of me; the part of me that everyone looked at when I was naked. It was the part that made the older women wonder what it was like to make love to me, the younger women a little afraid of what I would do to them, and the little girls just know that they should instinctively be attracted to it. 

It was ready to perform. A woman was present and her sex was near. My young, healthy, virile, and ready penis had done an admirable job of supplying copious lubricant. My testicles had worked overtime generating sperm. Seminal fluid had been produced to overflowing. 

"Can I squirt, please?" I whined in a little boy voice. 

"Not yet, baby," mommy answered. 

"Oooo, why not?" I asked like an insolent little boy. 

"Your bottom isn't red enough yet." 

"Please, mommy, I need to," I pushed. The man inside me was begging his mommy to let him orgasm. Real men don't ask their mommies for permission. The need grew. I wanted so bad to feel the thick liquid squirt out the little slit. I craved the involuntary contractions of that muscle between my testicles and bottom hole that would contract hard over and over again to force my semen out. 

Everyone was looking at a naughty little boy getting spanked by his mommy but what I wanted them to see was how my penis could ejaculate like a man. I was desirable as a mate. Every woman in the room of every age should want to be with me and every one of those little boys should know that they couldn't perform as well as me. 

"Mommy, please, I need to squirt," I whined again. 

"Hush, baby, and don't you dare. You hold it back," she commanded. "You want to make mommy proud, right? You want to make me happy. Show mommy that you can be a good boy and wait." 

"Yes, mommy, ow, mommy, I want to, ow, oh please, mommy, it wants to come out so bad, mommy," I chanted. She just spanked harder. 

"Just a little more, baby, you can make it," she encouraged. "It is almost time. You can do it!" 

I reared up in anticipation opening up a little and I thought maybe giving some kid a little view of my little bottom hole. I realized that if I spread my legs, those behind me would be able to see the pulsing muscle between my legs when it finally happened. I tried to ease my legs apart as I further arched my back. This caused my penis to be drawn over mommy's thighs and even just that small movement was enough to bring me right to the edge. 

I clenched my teeth and clawed at the couch pillows. "Please, mommy, please, ow, please, mommy, need squirt, mommyyyyy," I chanted like a little boy. I pushed up even more trying to reduce the sensations against my penis. I need to hold on for mommy. She wasn't ready yet. I needed to make her proud. I pushed my bottom up into the spoon. 

This might not have been the longest she had made me wait but it felt like it. The spanking was starting to sting pretty bad too. "Ow, oh, mommy, please, I'll be good, I'll be good, please, mommy, can I squirt mommy? I promise I'll be good. Please, I need to squirt. I don't think I can stop it. It's coming! Mommy, please!" I was getting desperate from both the want and the need. 

"OK, baby," she said soothingly, "make your little mess. Let it all out." 

I wanted everyone to see the cum shoot powerfully out of my penis. I wanted to scar the children, impress the young men, and make the women wonder what it would feel like if my cock exploded like that while pressed to the hilt inside their vaginal sheath and splashing like a fire-hose against their cervical barrier. In that moment, I was a strong, grown man fulfilling my biological destiny. 

My penis barely had to move to create enough stimulation to push myself over the edge. I felt mom's left hand gently rub my upper back as she encouraged me on: "that's a good little boy. Let it all out for mommy. What a big boy you are making a squirt on mommy's lap. Pump it all out." She sounded like she was soothing a baby. 

It was indeed a wonderful orgasm. She spanked me right over my bottom hole the whole time and though I sort of felt the sting, for the moment it almost felt good. I pulsated strongly and even felt my scrotum rock back and forth as that muscle inside me pushed burst after burst of semen through my shaft. I hoped that whoever was behind me could see the strong muscle flexing rhythmically.

The little slit of a hole struggled to let it all through and the friction as it forced its way out felt wonderful. I froze in place as my genitals executed their vital function and fireworks of pleasure exploded in my head. The unmistakable sound of a grown man groaning in sexual rapture escaped my throat as I closed my eyes and hugged the couch. 

Then it was over. The good feelings faded replaced in seconds by all the burning pain that the spoon had been delivering while I was so distracted by my now vanishing sexual arousal. All of that desire, need, and arousal was immediately replaced by the realization that I had just had an orgasm in front of a bunch of children. I couldn't believe that just seconds before, my need for ejaculation was so powerful that I was willing to selfishly satisfy myself publicly and in front of children and relatives. All that remained was shame and pain. 

And the pain was ferociously emasculating. I had no desire to remain stoic and collapsed on mom's lap, my legs snapped together, and I started kicking and wiggling. Mom's hand moved from my neck and upper back to my hip where she took a firm grip to hold me still and in place. I began to protest the spanking immediately: "No, ow, mommy, ow, ow, no,..." 

My bottom felt like giant blister and each spank of the spoon was a new bee sting. The bouncing and jiggling of my cheeks no longer provided subtle stimulation to my prostate, anus, and erect penis. Now it was just embarrassing to feel my hot bottom feel swollen and the object of everyone's attention.

Mom spanked one cheek at least ten times right down where my bottom meets my upper thighs and then did the same thing to my left cheek before spanking right over the crack way past when I lost count. I was reduced to ouchie sounds and crying. 

Then it was suddenly over and mom was pulling me to my knees. The whole thing was probably over in just minutes but it felt like much longer for me. Still, she was both in a hurry to work on dinner and getting my shame on full display--a chastised little boy crying his eyes out because of a spanked bottom--were priorities. I struggled to my knees and instinctively reached for my sore bottom only to be admonished and reminded of the no rubbing rule. 

Through the tears of my downcast gaze, I couldn't help but notice the puddle of milky liquid smeared on mom's apron. A child's voice said, "his pee-pee isn't big anymore," and another said something like "ewe, gross." I took a look and, yeah, I was a mess. My hairless penis had mostly retreated to its least aroused state. Only the head was still a little swollen. Globs of white semen clung to the little patch of short pubic hair mom let me keep on my lower stomach. Mostly it looked like white snot was covering my stomach up to my belly button and my penis, testicles, and even upper thighs. My penis was still oozing more out even. 

Mom quickly pulled off her apron and spread it out on the floor right in front of her. Then turned to me, "stand on my apron for your timeout. Hurry now before you drip." I struggled off the couch. "Oh, don't step in your puddle. Be careful," she warned. I ended up straddling my little puddle. 

Mom decided a word of explanation about the puddle was in order while her little boy regained his composure: "when boys are around pretty girls, sometimes they will squirt the white stuff out of their penis but naughty boys will do it when they are having a spanking like Johnny did. It is very naughty when that happens and then afterwards the penis gets small again." I blushed and sniffled at this explanation. A new tear even rolled down my cheek. I didn't want to be bad any more. 

"John, I want you to stay in timeout for 10 minutes and then put the apron in the laundry, wash off your spanking spoon, and come help me in the kitchen. No clothes until I tell you. Understand?" I nodded. "Use your words." 

"Yes, mom," I said in the voice of a little boy that had been crying. "I understand." 

"Is there anything else you would like to say?" she prodded. 

"Thank you for spanking me, mommy. I'm sorry I was naughty. I'll try to be good," I read from the script in my head. 

"Good boy. That was a big spanking. Did it hurt your little boom-boom?" she asked clearly prolonging my embarrassment. 

I paused, "mommy, it hurt so bad," I answered softly. "I felt like bees were stinging me." 

"I'm sorry, baby. Mommies sometimes have to teach their little boys hard lessons.

 "Did you have a good squirt at least?" she asked clearly enjoying my torture. 

"Yes," I whispered. 

"At least that felt good, didn't it?" 

"Yes, it felt really good, mommy," I said softly and then offered, "thank you for letting me squirt, mommy," again almost in a whisper. 

"You're welcome, baby," she said sweetly. 

"Lydia," mom said a little louder. I thought I saw her jump in my peripheral vision. 

"Yes, mom," she answered quickly. 

"Can you keep time for John-john? Ten minutes should be enough but if he is still dripping keep him a little longer." 

"OK," she answered. I realized that my sister and the other teenage girls were now going to have to stay and basically watch my penis for 10 minutes. 

Mom left the room and I noticed some other adult faces also disappear from the doorway as well. The family room slowly came back to life but it wasn't as if my little episode of sex and punishment hadn't happened. Pretty soon a game of house was being played where the children would get spanked if they were bad. The teenage girls gathered around me and the game was played like the four of us didn't even exist. The rules were hammered out: hand spankings only, ten spanks, mom and dad were picked, .... 

The teens were whispering to each other and I couldn't make out what they were saying but it was obviously about me. Blood kept flowing away from my genitals and I felt myself morphing into an even smaller shape. As my penis got shorter, the remaining semen emerged from the tip. A big drop formed and slowly clung to me as it elongated before dripping into my puddle between my feet. It actually splashed little particulates onto my feet. Three drips and then I guess I was empty. 

The ten minutes was an eternity for me but at least the sting of the spanking was receding into just a merely maddening tingle. For the teens, they seemed disappointed when Lydia announced that the ten minutes was up. Most of the semen covering me had dried except at the tip which just felt cold. I thought there was still some inside. I just wanted to give my penis a tug and make it come out but I didn't want to violate the "no touching" rule. 

Both of the "parents" in the game were spanking "children" when I left. The game had started over clothes, then underwear, but quickly had progressed to on-the-bare. Everyone wanted to know what it was like to spank and be spanked. 

Luckily the utility room with the laundry basket is toward the kitchen so didn't have to go near the den. I delivered the apron and then reported to the kitchen where I washed my spanking spoon. Mom had a couple tasks for me--take out the garbage, wash a pot--but then wanted me to make sure no one in the den needed anything. 

It was no fun walking into the den and asking if I could get anyone anything. I hoped everyone was good but, of course, that didn't happen. My favorite uncle apologetically asked if would fetch him a beer. He didn't want to make me uncomfortable but it was a catch-22: if he got it himself, I would get in trouble but if he asked me to do it, I was uncomfortable. 

I said, "no problem," with a smile. It was like he understood my painful predicament. 

Mom let me put on a sweater for dinner but I was still naked from the waist down. I had to round up everyone wearing that strange costume. Apparently, this was so that if any pictures were taken at dinner, I wouldn't stand out (unless, of course, we were standing up). 

My naked bottom was still tender and the hard wood chair was uncomfortable. I was fidgeting in my seat trying to get comfortable. Mom finally got annoyed and from across the table said, “Johnny, stop fidgeting or you are getting another spanking after dinner.” I immediately stopped moving as everyone started laughing. I blushed in embarrassment and dropped my eyes to my lap where I watched my penis—still caked with dried cum—struggle to grow partially erect in hopeful anticipation. 

After dinner was cleaned up, we all were getting pie and I ended up sitting cross-legged on the floor by the coffee table back in the family room. Some of the kids were there and they started to ask me questions about my spankings. "Does mom always spank you with the spoon?" "Do you always cry?" and then offering their own stories. One of my teen cousins, Beth, said that sometimes her mom spanks her with a strap. As she described how she has to undress and then wait naked on the bed with a pillow under her hips until her mom comes in to strap her bottom with the big leather belt, I got a full erection. The glass top coffee table didn't hide this fact. It made me uncomfortable, but her smile made me feel slightly less bad. 

I softened back up as we cleaned up and then mom said that I could go get dressed so that we could go to a movie. 

I went to my room and for some reason closed the door only to be surprised at the sight of my teenage cousin, Beth, hiding just out of sight. Beth had heard mom as well and had raced me to the room. Though not an adult, at seventeen, she wasn't a child either. She knew we didn't have much time to be alone so she was quick with her intentions. "Lay down on the bed," she  directed completely out of the blue. I protested at first but she was seemed so determined. 

She quickly knelt beside me and took my penis in her right hand. I instantly grew completely erect. "When mom tells me to get ready for my strappings, I play with myself while I wait and stop just before she comes in. Then after she leaves, I play with myself until, you know, I cum." She took my testicles in her other hand while she gently stroked my penis. "One time, I didn't stop in time and I started to cum just as mom walked in. She didn't catch me; she just thought I was fidgeting and nervous about my spanking. But it was worse that time and I cried more than ever. After that, I was always super careful not to get too far. 

"I felt so bad for you when your mom kept spanking you after you squirted. I wanted to run over and make her stop hurting you. 

"But you looked so amazing when you came. I could see you pumping and everything. I promise that after mom straps me next time, I am going to be thinking about you when I play with myself," she whispered. She was cupping my testicles with her fingers tickling between my legs with her left hand as her right continued to gently stroke my shaft. I reached over to her and cupped one of her bottom cheeks in my hand, gave it a squeeze, and then arched my back and groaned. "Shhh," she admonished as the first hands that were not my own brought me to orgasm. The first spurt was pretty strong creating a line a semen a couple inches long up and to the left, but most of my second load of the day just gushed out in waves creating a little pool on my stomach just above the tip of my penis.  When I came back to earth, she was staring lustily at the mess we had created together. 

"Thank you," I said breathlessly. She just smiled as she carefully removed her hands. I reached for some tissues to clean up but she stopped me. 

"Wait; don't wipe it off. Can you just leave it? I want you to remember me later," she asked shyly. 

Reaching instead for my underwear that I hadn't worn in hours, I said, "Beth, I will never be able to forget you." The young girl ten years my junior smiled back like the most popular boy in school had asked her to prom. 

I stood up and gravity pulled the day's decidedly smaller semen puddle down off my stomach and into my little patch of pubic hair as I struggled to pull on my underwear. Beth watched in rapt attention as I did her bidding. Wet spots immediately appeared which seemed to please her. 

She hopped off the bed and walked quickly to the door as I found my pants. I looked up as she took a quick glance out the door, then smiled at me and waved as she made her escape. 

Suddenly the Christmas party seemed like it was going to be much more interesting this year.

Pretty Pink Panties Spanking

Author's Note: This post is an experiment and one that I am not sure I like. I am toying with a couple new humiliation ideas as well as a writing exercise that was very difficult for me. I am most comfortable writing in past tense and felt like it would be good to work on my present tense narrative/dialog style. Feedback would be very welcome, of course, but, yeah, I know I wrote myself into a corner on this one.

Author's Note #2: This was inspired by a real life F/m domestic discipline blog post I read someplace complete with 'stock pictures'. I am indebted to that author for the core of the idea but I could not find that post to give credit where credit is clearly due. If anyone knows that of which I speak, please help me out.

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She is driving to dinner but I will probably drive home. I think she is worried that after my punishment, maybe I'm not quite ready to drive yet. We did walk out of the house minutes after the last spank landed. I was still crying even as I got in the passenger seat. "You better dry those tears before we get to the restaurant," she mocked as we pulled out of the driveway. 

She told me I would get a spanking before we went to dinner with friends this morning. I had been a little stinker, not really bad but just not very attentive to her needs. She wanted me back on task and knew that a couple trips over her lap would do the trick. The first trip was right after I was out of the shower and was just a teaser so that I would think about what I had coming to me all day long. 

It didn't hurt too much but I also had a big erection the whole time as she warmed up my bottom with the stingy paddle. I just stood with my thighs against the counter, testicles resting on the cool granite, and stared into my own eyes in the mirror as she systematically warmed my bottom. My erection never sagged and even produced a big drop of pre-cum at the tip. It was over just as I started to feel some distress. These warmup spankings can't be too hard or I won't properly look forward to the real spanking later. It has to be hard enough to sting for a while and leave a pleasant tingle most of the day but it can't be so hard that I am too scared of what is to come. The idea is to make me erect and uncomfortable all day so that when it is spanking time, I am all worked-up and pop easily and quickly. 

Then I had to put on my "you're getting a spanking" panties which are thin pink nylon and almost transparent. I like the feeling of the nylon against my erection but they don't fit very well. Women's panties on a guy usually don't fit perfectly but these are too small both in size and style. Granny panties would be better but these are smaller--almost bikini panties. They are too tight, just barely contain my cheeks, and everything is cramped in front. The tip of my erect penis is almost at the too tight waist band. 

I soaked through the nylon at work. My erection was drooling all day making them wet and even more see-through  The few times I had to pee, I did so almost fully erect. I knew the spanking would hurt real bad but I still find the idea of my spankings to be very exciting. Memories of being a spanked by my mother, sister, baby-sitters, and girl friends interrupted my work all day. 

She called me in the afternoon and told me to expect to be spanked before and after dinner. She likes to do that to me because she thinks it is cute to watch me sit uncomfortably all through dinner and then try to delay the inevitable as long as possible after dinner.  

We also had to hurry the first spanking because the dinner reservations were early. I was excited hoping that I would still have my erection to protect me during the spanking before dinner. My erection is my spanking superpower equipping me with the ability to maybe not enjoy but at least tolerate a hard spanking with a small amount of my masculinity intact. 

I got home on time. It is always tempting to be late when you know that you are time-bound. I was afraid to do that and deep inside I was so excited about getting my spanking that I almost hurried home. 

She wasn't quite ready for me when I walked in the door. She told me to take everything off but my "pretty panties" and wait in the den. I went to the den and my heart sank. The big plugin vibrator was waiting already plugged in right next to the hairbrush. This is always bad but my stupid penis just pulsed a little more pre-cum into my already soaked panties. 

The wait was torture. The head and the top third of my shaft showed through the thin wet fabric. My scrotum was a tight little ball ready for just a little stimulation to give it an excuse to pump the semen out. My bottom had stopped stinging by lunch but now tingled in anticipation. 

She rushed into the room and gave her signature tsk-tsk sound when she saw my arousal. "I was afraid of that," she commented taking a seat in front of me. "We will need to take care of your little problem before your spanking, I think," she commented mostly to herself as she switched on the vibrator. 

Sometimes she teases me a little by vibrating my testicles or just the base of my penis. In the past, she has sometimes kept the speed low for a while or even let me get close to the edge a couple of times. Not this time. The speed was immediately on high and she meant business. Clearly she was sending a message that my behavior needed adjustment. 

It took less than a minute with the machine lightly pressing against my erection just below the head before I ejaculated. She pulled it away the second I started to pulse ruining my little orgasm. We both watched as I pumped even more fluid into my panties making a mess that ran all the way down the shaft. It was so frustratingly close to a real orgasm that I moaned "no" as I twitched. I stood there with my legs tense and pressed tightly together, tight fisted, and teeth clenched as I humped the air trying to prolong and intensify my orgasm. 

Even though it was a ruined orgasm, it wasn't really completely over when she patted her towel covered lap. On wobbly legs I went over and then just held on. She started straight away with the brush and though not fast or too hard, it immediately strung ferociously. After making a couple passes up and down both cheeks, she picked up speed and intensity on the 'naughty' parts as I like to call them. My bottom was compressed in the little panties and bounced embarrassingly as I fell apart, lost my composure, kicked, wiggled, and became that naughty little boy that got spankings growing up. 

She finished abruptly and made me stand up, immediately put on my clothes, and walk out the door. I was sobbing a little and the tears in my eyes made the world all watery. My little penis fit better in my soiled panties I noticed as I pulled up my pants. 

She has this look of satisfaction in the glow of the dashboard lights listening to me sniffle. It was a hard spanking even though it wasn't technically on the bare bottom, but it wasn't even the last one today. "I told Jen that you were getting a spanking after work and might be a little quiet at dinner," she announced and then smiling an evil smirk. "And I invited them back to the house after dinner to witness your bedtime spanking. Jen was a little unsure about that so we'll see." 

I am speechless.  No one as far as I knew had any idea that this was a part of our lives. Maybe the neighbors had suspicions based on noises they heard but I certainly hadn't told anyone and I didn't know if she had.

"That isn't a problem, is it?" she asks rhetorically. I answer "no" in a completely unconvincing voice. "Oh don't worry," she assures me also unconvincingly. 

The restaurant isn't far from our house and I am still just recovering as we arrive. I try to look normal as we walk to the door but the burning of my bottom, the gooey mess in my pants, and the new information that our friends will know about my spankings make that very difficult. 

Jen and Dan are already there and greet us warmly with smiles but I am reading more into that than perhaps I should. As we sit down, I can't help but grimace a little on the hard chair. "Rough day?" jokes Dan with a wink. 

My wife answers for me, "he has had a rough day. I gave him a good dose of the brush just before we came over and he didn't seem to enjoy it very much at all. Well, not that part. And then he didn't open the door for me when we got here so, as I thought, he will need some more when we get home. Will you be joining us?" 

Jen looked at Dan and after a big pause, "we talked about it and we would both like that. I wasn't sure about Dan this afternoon which is why I hesitated. If it won't be weird for you guys, it sounds, um, great, I guess." 

"No, it won't be weird for me," my wife quickly responds. "It might be for you a little. Watching a grown man strip naked for a bare bottom spanking that leaves him crying might be a little strange." 

I carefully inspect the place mat throughout all of this. 

"I should warn you, though," my wife continues, "Billy thinks getting a spanking is very exciting. He can be quite aroused and even sometimes ejaculates. I am not sure if he will, you know, 'like it' like it that you are there." 

There is a long pause where I continue to inspect the intricate weave of the place mat and apparently everyone is staring at me. 

"Billy, what do you think about them coming over after dinner to watch your bedtime spanking? Do you think you will be 'happy' about that?" she asks like I'm just a child. 

My soft penis flexes a little giving me my answer. 

"I, um, I think I will, um, probably have an erection," I mumble. 

"Do you think you will have a squirt ready to make before your spanking?" she asks her naughty little boy. 

"I don't know," I mumble. "Probably," I add quietly. 

"Well, there it is," she says to Jen and Dan. "See, sometimes if I want to make sure that he 'appreciates' his spanking, I will make sure that he ejaculates before we start. Other times I just let nature take its course. Before his spanking before we came over, I let him have a little squirt just to be sure nothing distracted him from the hairbrush. We didn't have a lot of time, so it was all very quick." 

A waiter cuts her off and thankfully the subject is dropped. It turns out to be a nice dinner and I stop feel embarrassed and sorry for myself as we talk about normal things. After entrees are finished the table is clear, that sense of doom invades my stomach as I realize that she will shortly reignite the fire on my backside. I pray silently that everyone will want dessert as my penis slowly unfolds in my now crusty panties. I twinge a little as the dried semen pulls on the sensitive skin of my glans as I swell to full size in the little panties. The waiter brings a dessert menu as I blush.

 "I'll just leave this here," he says before walking away. 

"Are we having dessert?" Dan asks. 

"I'm OK," Jen responds as they both look at us. 

"I wouldn't mind dessert," I offer. 

"Oh, Billy, you just know what will happen sooner if we don't have dessert. Your vote doesn't count," my devious wife quips. "We have some cookies at our house. Let's go back there and we can have some cookies while Billy gets his spanking." 

For the record, "Billy" is my spanking name. Everyone knows me as William but she calls me Billy when I am going to be spanked. 

They all agree, the waiter is called, the tab settled, and all too soon, we are walking to the car. I drive home just under the speed limit and very carefully. I don't want to make her angry but I don't want to hurry either. 

"When we get home, I think you should just undress down to your spanking panties, go to the kitchen, get those cookies, and then just bring them to the den, understand?" she asks  calmly. 

"OK," I say far less calmly. 

In the bedroom, I take off and put away my clothes and then take a look at myself in the mirror. The panties are a stained mess and my man size penis presses lewdly against a new fresh wet spot. I am mostly hairless and feel like I look like the little boy that received all those formative spankings when I was younger. 

I walk undetected to the kitchen to the sound of talking and laughter emanating from the den. I am keenly aware that my bottom jiggles a little with every step. Then, with the tin of cookies strategically placed in front of me, I enter the Den. The conversation doesn't end with my presence which is actually sort of comforting. Jen is holding the vibrator and I realize that the conversation was about how my ejaculation was triggered before my spanking. 

"Can I turn it on?" she asks. My wife waves and says, "sure! knock yourself out." 

Jen turns it on low and we all watch the flat "back massager" attachment blur. "Wow, that is pretty intense. It must not take long at all for him to cum with this monster," she speculates out loud. 

Like Pavlov's dog, my erection responds to the sound and sight of the vibrator, pulses and leaks into my pretty pink panties. 

"It doesn't take long at all!" my wife exuberantly answers. "I think he started to squirt in less than a minute earlier today. It was less than a minute, right dear?" she says pulling me into a conversation I absolutely don't want to have. 

"Yes, it was very fast," I say before a pause as everyone looks at me to continue. "She, um, only, you know, lets me start my squirt. She pulled it away right after it started so I didn't, um, it wasn't a good squirt, is what I mean. It was very frustrating." Why am I saying this? 

"Well, it looks like you are ready for another squirt," Jen giggles. "Did you make him do it into those panties?" she asks turning to my wife. "They are a mess!" 

"Yup," my wife says with a big smile, "and then he got his hairbrush spanking right--I mean right--afterwards. He always gets spanked with the hairbrush after he ejaculates. Isn't that right dear?"

I just nod. 

"He seems to really not like those spankings but knowing that he will get the hairbrush makes him really hard and he has very intense orgasms. I think it is cute and even when he deserves his spanking, I don't mind him having a little fun before his punishment." I blush and inspect the carpeting. "He is embarrassed. I suppose I should stop torturing him and get this over with. Would you like to make another little squirt, Billy?" she asks me. 

"Yes, ma'am," I whisper. 

"And what will happen after you squirt?" 

My penis throbs lewdly for all to see as I answer, "I'll get a hard spanking with the hairbrush." 

"Of course," she affirms. "Jen, could you hand me the vibrator?" "Aw, I wanted to do that part," Jen whines a little drunkenly causing Dan to laugh. 

"That's fine with me. Let him have a nice big squirt and then I'll finish his punishment. Billy, hand Dan the cookies and let Jen help you squirt." 

The steps toward the couple are on rubbery legs. Dan takes the cookies from me and nonchalantly takes one from the tin. Jen turns on the vibrator and tentatively extends it towards my crotch. It is electric when it touches and more big drops of pre-cum escape. She bites her lip sensuously enjoying the power in her hand. Gently she runs the flat end of the machine up and down my shaft and even tickles my scrotum a little. A little 'oh' escapes my lips and the impending orgasm builds. She teases me a little by avoided the more sensitive places and everyone seems to enjoy watching me sweetly suffer. 

"Jen, when you are ready, let him have a nice orgasm; I want him completely empty for his spanking." my wife instructs. Jen teases me a little more keeping the vibrator at the base on my shaft before slowly guiding it up toward the tip. My breathing becomes ragged and uneven just before I explode. My panties quickly again fill with my semen as Jen holds the vibrator lightly against my frenulum. My bliss runs its course and she only moves it away when I visibly relax. 

"Very good, OK, time for the hairbrush," my wife says in a sing-song voice. "Come over here, baby and let's take off those panties." Again on unsure legs I walk the two steps to her side and she hooks her fingers into the waistband. My softening penis yields has she pulls them down my thighs. As I take over pulling the sticky pink mess off my feet she says, "are you going to make a fuss like you did earlier?" 

"No, I'll be good," I answer quickly realizing where this is going. 

"Hmmm, I'm not sure, wipe yourself off with your panties," which I do as she pauses and then adds, "If you can stay quite and be a big boy, then I won't make you put those in your mouth but if you get out of hand like you do sometimes, well, you know what will happen." 

"I'll be good; I promise!" I declare boldly and foolishly. 

"Hmmm, I bet. Whatever. Over you go," she directs as I topple over her lap. She wastes no time getting started and I almost immediately cry out. "Now hush; don't embarrass yourself," she chides. 

It seems to go on so long. I bite into my arm to keep from making too much noise but I kick and wiggle while my already damaged backside is punished. The sting quickly turns to fire as I try to see how our guests feel about this. Through tears I can make out that they are both eating cookies and are completely transfixed on my backside. They are both at the edge of their seats. 

She finishes with a flurry of hard spanks right where my bottom meets my thighs which cause me to vocalize loudly and shamefully like a little boy being spanked by mommy.  

"Oh don't be such a baby," she says as I sob self-consciously over her knees. "Get up, get up, its all over." 

I struggle to my feet still holding the balled up soiled panties in my left hand. She pats the seat next to her and I sit down still sniffling. 

The next fifteen minutes are a blur as I try to focus on the conversation in spite of how bad my bottom hurts. Ironically, the topic of conversation is mostly about my bottom and why it stings so bad which made it even harder to distract myself. My post-ejaculation penis oozes a little more as he retreats even further. Jen kept handling the vibrator and my wife never put down the hairbrush. Jen quizzes my wife about every aspect of how and why she spanks me. After a while, I notice that Dan is participating less in the conversation and starting to look a little concerned himself. What might have started as my problem perhaps was becoming his as well. 

An hour later, Jen and Dan make their exit. We walk them to the door and as we wave goodbye, my wife taps the hard wood of the hairbrush against my burning bottom. My little guy swells a little in response as she whispers, "good boy," into my ear.