Self-spanking, Fleshlight, and Shame

I was in the shower obsessing about spanking and trying to get my nerve up to ask my wife to solve my problem when a funny thought crossed my mind. I have been toying with the idea of self-spanking and combining that with asking her to "finish me off" after I was well warmed up. I even blogged about my plan. Of course, having a plan and executing on the plan are two different things. I make a lot of plans.

Over the years, I have acquired a number of Fleshlights. These are basically male masturbation aids that are really quite fantastic experiences. I've had fun with them but not like some guys that do all sorts of unspeakable things with them. One of my favorite ways to play is to prop the "device" against a wall so that I have to hump it standing up. Of course, my favorite place is where there are mirrors so that I can watch myself over my shoulder. I like to watch how I have to hump the inanimate object and how I sort of convulse uncontrollably when I cum.

The dumb idea was to combine this with spanking myself. A while back, we tried having me stand at the bathroom counter facing the mirror while she spanked me. My erect penis rested on my cummy towels and I could hump the towels lightly while she blistered my bottom. The idea was that when I came, it would be more visible than when I squirt while over her lap. Perhaps it would be more dramatic, embarrassing, or even messy.

Anyway, it was a nifty idea but it didn't work out super great for a couple reasons. One was that I just didn't have enough downward pressure to create the necessary friction. Also, well, it just wasn't that dramatic. I was hoping to make a couple big squirts and then find myself unable to keep my spent member out of the puddle. I was hoping for a dramatic mess but instead it just drooled out like normal and I immediately shrunk leaving my little puddle sitting undisturbed.

The new idea was roughly the same thing except that I would put the Fleshlight on the counter instead of the towels. Then I would have something that would definitely provide enough stimulation for my little guy to work with while getting my bottom roasted.

I have several inserts depending on my mood. Some are just amazing while others are a little less intense and more suited for long edging sessions. To be honest, the real difference between intense and not so much is where all the good parts start; I'm not long enough to get to the good parts of some of them. I thought about how I would have to really pound on a low stimulation insert to get off but then decided that just being still in an intense insert would be delicious torture.

The problem is, however, that the one time my wife and I played with our respective toys together, she was, well, jealous of my Flashlight. She sort of liked it but didn't like seeing me screwing anything but her. This made me think that this was probably the sort of idea she wasn't going to go for but I decided that it would be interesting to try by myself anyway.

I decided on my favorite insert that gets me there super quick. I also decided on my little Lexan paddle to warm-up with and the hairbrush paddle to finish the job. I lubed up and sunk easily to my balls into the stimulating sleeve. Of course, it felt wonderful penetrating my pretend lover. I positioned myself at the counter holding the Fleshlight firmly on the counter with my left hand. Holding as still as I could, I did my best to self-spank myself with the Lexan paddle.

I tried not to move at all except to spank myself. This is actually tricky. Getting any sort of swing takes a certain amount of movement and each twitch in the sleeve easily eclipsed the sting on my bottom. I decided to switch to the wood paddle sooner than later.

Without a long warmup, the wooden brush was shockingly stingy right away. I rocked back and forth with the first couple swats and had no trouble enjoying the feeling of my penis attempting to fornicate with my inanimate lover. Looking down, I could see that I was completely buried in the perfect rubber vagina. Her glistening lips were stretched slightly around my little erection and appeared to be parted and sort of kissing my stomach. The cold of the counter against my scrotum contrasted dramatically with the warm wetness surrounding my desperate sex.

I tried to spank myself hard but anyone who has attempted self-spanking knows this is tricky. The body revolts against inflicting pain on itself. Still, I tried to light a fire on my own bottom alternating between cheeks and always trying to strike the sensitive sit spots. My bottom quickly had my attention and I decided to reward myself by humping a little when I took a spank directly on the crack. Left, right and then I pulled back a little, center, and back in. She accepted me lovingly and rewarded my bravery generously.

Again, left, right, and then center. Each center spank earned me a little thrust. The little thrusts, however, felt terrific and I realized my error: I wasn't going to last long. I was shaking trying to stay still and make it last and I spanked harder in a vain attempt to keep myself from going over the edge. Left, right, center, left, right, center, over and over.

I lost control and poured my seed into the vessel. She accepted it with only the slightest flexing of her perfect labia lips as I pumped out my semen. Immediately I had to stop spanking myself. With the desire gone so was my ability to accept the pain. I never want the spanking to continue after I squirt but when it does and I take the pain from my wife, I am always proud of myself afterwards. It is so important to me to be well punished after my little naughty selfish squirt. It is what renews me and resets my brain.

Instead, I stood there with my shrinking penis inside a masturbation aid unable to continue the punishment that I needed. Looking in the mirror I saw the mixture of post-coitus (fake-coitus) and shame. I pulled my still swollen but no longer erect penis out and it glistened in the harsh lights of the bathroom. The sensations that pushed me to my pre-mature ejaculation moments before were maddening torture as my penis retreated from its lover.

And that's it. I cleaned up, put everything away, got dressed, and went to work. I wish it had been a great experience and a suitable substitute to getting spanked by my wife but it wasn't. It was sort of fun masturbation, of course, and as orgasms go, it was awesome. But ejaculation during a spanking for me isn't about the pleasure but getting it out of the way so that I can truly feel the punishment.

New Self-Spanking Plan

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hi babe," she asked cheerfully.

"Hi," I answered softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"OK," I answered softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Please?" I whined.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spanking After Ruined Orgasm

Perfunctory. Functional. Efficient. 

I am being manipulated towards an ejaculation. It won't be an orgasm or a complete orgasm anyway, but it will be enough for me to spill my seed, lose my erection, and not be sexually aroused anymore. Then she will spank me. 

"Just a little more, I think," she says quietly like she is talking to herself. 

Joyless. Mechanical. Necessary. 

I was bad. It isn't important why, really. I get spanked for a bunch of things. Some are rules she has for me and some are rules I have for myself that she helps me keep. Today I spent some money on something for myself that I didn't really need and, well, we both don't think that is something I should be doing. 

Sad. Disappointed. Duty. 

Unfortunately I get excited by spanking. It is what gets me aroused even more than the thought of intercourse or oral sex. Those things are great, but if she wants me to cum faster, she doesn't have to do much more than playfully pat my bottom. 

Indifferent. Dispassionate. Methodical. 

I like getting play spankings and can even cum during the hardest ones. This makes punishing me with a spanking a challenge but a challenge overcome by simply relieving my arousal beforehand. She knows it hurts more after I've squirted away my excitement. I would very much rather have a big grown up erection and great big orgasm during my spanking. After I've had my little fun, I don't want it anymore and it just hurts. It is like my special present has been ruined. 

"Please don't make me cum before my spanking," I plead. My adult penis protrudes obscenely from my hairless torso. It looks out of place on my thin and pale frame. It is engorged and darker in color and though completely normally sized and shaped, it appears to be the most adult part of me. In the mirror, I am embarrassed to see what could be a pre-teen boy with his fingers interlaced behind his head, twitching and humping.

"No, you won't appreciate your punishment if we don't take care of this first," she says with a note of disappointed resignation. She is just taking care of business, doing a task, solving her little boy's problem. She didn't sign up for this when she married me. Sure, she knew that I liked spanking but neither of us had thought about how hard it would be to punish me if I liked my punishment. 

The little finger tip vibrator--an embarrassingly small device--gently caresses the underside of my throbbing erection. 

Patient. Routine. Obligatory. 

"Please," I hiss. It feels so good not just because she knows this is a very fast, effective, and efficient way to stimulate me to orgasm but because the idea of my impending spanking including the pain and humiliation but also the embarrassment of this situation is all making me a live nerve of sexual excitement. 

She takes the vibrator away leaving me humping the air in front of her face. Looking up at my flushed face, she says "look, this isn't much fun for me either. You were naughty today and now we have to do this and then spank you. Maybe I wanted to have sex today. Did you think of that? But no, I can't have sex with a naughty boy. I have to spank a naughty boy after making him have his little cum so he won't enjoy it. 

"Now, stop whining. Stop begging. Hurry up and let's get this over with." 

Then, focusing back on my engorged member, she carefully finds my special place with the vibrator again. I gasp in spite of myself. I shouldn't be enjoying this as much as I am. If she could find an easier and quicker way to make me orgasm, I'm sure she would do it. We've learned that this gets the job done very effectively because it is so pleasurable to me. 

When it first was apparent that I needed to be punished sometimes, I would cum during my spankings. After a couple of those, she made me go masturbate in the bathroom first before my spankings. She liked how much I didn't want a spanking when I came out but after a while she started to think I was enjoying myself in the bathroom too much and she made me jack-off in front of her. That is when she realized that she should take matters in her own hands if she was going to make sure I wasn't enjoying the process too much.

 At first, she would give me a perfectly acceptable hand job. Then she made me buy a ribbed sleeve but she didn't like how much I liked it. She did a little research and learned that the trick was to ruin my orgasm by stopping before I actually ejaculated. The sleeve made that tricky so she started experimenting with vibrators. The bigger ones were almost too effective at making me cum quickly and she couldn't keep me from having satisfying orgasms. This little fingertip model was enough to get me there but not enough to create a huge orgasm. 

Professionally. Skillfully. Persistently. 

The little vibrator gently coaxed me to an involuntary orgasm. The little paddle lay on the bed to the right of my seated wife. She held my underwear--panties, really--in her left hand ready to catch whatever spilled out of me. I shivered and twitched. If I could remain perfectly still, maybe she wouldn't notice that I was about to cum and it would be a little more satisfying. She missed the signs a couple times and accidentally allowed me to squirt before taking away the stimulation. 

But, then I screwed up like I almost always do and forgot to breath regularly. She knew I was close. Just a little more and then all she did was switch hands taking the vibrator away and putting my panties directly under but not touching me. 

I was completely and majestically erect when I experienced just the shadow of an orgasm. A soft frustrated "noooo" escaped me as I started to twitch and pump vainly. There was no impressive squirting, just a dribble of white semen bubbling out of the tip and dripping onto the underwear I'd be wearing after my spanking. It was so close but not quite enough. Immediately, my erection started to wain and sag as I whimpered and wiggled in frustration. Just a little more was all I needed. 

She waited until it was over before speaking. "All done?" she asked coldly. I just nodded. "OK then, time for spanking," she said putting down the vibrator and picking up the paddle. "Over you go," she command nodding at her lap. 

Carefully she placed my soiled undies under my penis as I lay over her to catch any leakage still remaining in my softening penis. I was whimpering like a scared dog the whole time. "Oh hush," she said annoyed. "You will have plenty to cry about in a minute." 

I was reminded immediately that spankings hurt. There wasn't much of a warmup before she was in full swing and I was just trying to not be a huge baby about the thing. She did a little lecturing but never stopped spanking or even asked me to respond. There was stuff about not buying things I don't need and something about how I should ask first. She covered all of my bottom and then just worked on the sit spots until my fight was gone. 

I'm not allowed to recover over her lap after punishment spankings. It was done as fast as it started. She barked for me to stand up and when I didn't move fast enough, the brush connected with my upper thighs a couple times to get me going. 

I brought my underwear up with me as I stood up. I learned this the hard way early on when my stickiness and wiggling caused them to stick enough to my penis to pick them up but not enough to hold them there. They fell off and landed sticky side down which was bad. 

I held my little panties to my groin as I stood up and then pulled them away, turned them right side out, and without being told, I put them on. My spanking panties are delicate and little. Fully erect, I pop out the top but as a flaccid, chastised little boy, I fit perfectly. They are tight around my stinging and swollen bottom. The little bit of elastic cuts into my cheeks. Around the front, the lilac nylon is practically transparent in places where my semen is still wet. 

"Very pretty," she says smiling at last. I sniffle and stare at my feet. "OK, that's enough. Get some clothes on and take me to dinner."

No Permission Part 2: The Reality of the Thing

I am always interested in how the fantasy and the reality differ. Sometimes, of course, the fantasy is better than the reality. It is sad when that happens because this can sometimes ruin the fantasy. I would love to be brought to the point of crying my eyes out except that if I was crying my eyes out, I'm guessing that the trauma would be significantly worse than even a very severe spanking.

Most of the time, things are just different and many times the different is good. I think there is an additional challenge in BDSM where the scene doesn't always play out according to plan. Having a plan is important but improvisation is more the true mark of a genius.

The plan was to spend a couple hours doing chores and running errands getting spankings between each task so that I was constantly in pain and arousal. The last spanking was going to be the hardest and involve the hairbrush paddle. I was going to be against the bathroom counter facing the mirror with my erect penis resting on my towel on the counter. As she spanked me, I was going to be able to rub against the towel until I needed to squirt on the towel. I would ask for permission to make my mess, but she would just deny me until I finally couldn't wait, squirted while apologizing, and then earned myself a real blistering after I was done.

Most of the first couple spankings were awesome. We started later than I wanted to and the anticipation was deliciously awful. During my warm-up over her lap, I almost popped. Ten minutes later, I was in the same position getting a little harder spanking (the warm-up was more intense than normal even), I got close again. It was awesome edging during those spankings but I was very worried about the fun ending too soon.

Over a couple hours, we worked through almost all the spanking implements and lots of positions. Most of the positions were such that my penis wasn't in contact with ANYTHING so that I was maximally frustrated. After each spanking, I was always rock hard even though I wasn't always standing at complete attention beforehand. As I went about my next task, I would find myself dripping long stringy drops of pre-cum on my legs. The head of my penis was either cold and wet like a dogs nose or caked with dried pre-cum flaking off.

Eventually I ended up against the bathroom counter getting big cracks with the oak paddle. I was in the position I thought might work for my cummy spanking and indeed the position seemed good. It was cool to look down and she myself grow super hard as she paddled me. I suggested that we "finish" in that position later and she agreed.

Later came at the next spanking because we were running out of time. I had only recovered just a little from the paddle which made me good and nervous about getting a long brush spanking. 

I folded the towel a couple times so that it was a little higher and softer. The first problem I noticed was that I couldn't really push down on the towel. As she started spanking me, I rocked my hips back and forth. Though it felt good, it didn't feel great and when I am getting the brush, it has too feel great for me to cum.

This is where different can be better. I leaned over the counter a little in order to push down and get more friction but this meant that I was more open to her. Though I liked feeling my bottom jiggle embarrassingly at each spank when I am standing straight up, it hurt more and deeper when I was bent over. I had to ask her to go a little softer so I could get closer and she let thankfully did for a while.

I could feel myself getting closer and asked her if I could squirt. We had agreed that she would just deny me but we both suck at pretending, acting, and make-believe. She said 'no' and started spanking harder which was a nice touch. I slowed down but kept grinding because I was worried that if I stopped, I wouldn't be able to get back to the edge. The need was great and I asked again and got another simple 'no'. She was playing the role but clearly not able to really let herself get into it. I decided not to ask again.

I held out as long as I could and then just apologized repeatedly saying something like, "I'm sorry, I can't keep it in." It felt like I was apologizing profusely but I suspect that I was actually pretty quiet and inside myself. I wanted to rear back when I came so that when I came, the puddle would be at the near edge of the towel. That didn't happen. Instead, I was pressed tight against the counter and fully extended across the towel. Big spurts pulsed out in a just a second of bliss. For just a few second, the spanking didn't hurt and it was all about what we were watching on the towel. It was even pretty cool to see my own cock go off all by itself.

The only problem was that in my fantasy, I would be forced to push my shrinking penis into and through the puddle while she ruined my orgasm by spanking all the good feelings away. Because of where I was when I came, I just shrank away from my little dollop of semen. She really did put the heat to me though and it felt like she kept it up for minutes but it couldn't have been that long.

Of course, in retrospect, I shouldn't have tried to pretend so much. Neither of us are good at it. I wish I could lose myself in the moment and the role but I am far too self conscious to let go. Perhaps there is a chemical solution to that problem but I don't think there is. In fact, I like being clean and sober though the idea of sporting a persistent Viagra fueled erection sounds pretty cool.

I should keep the dialog in my head unless she is into it. If she isn't totally sold out on the thing, I am just a mess of self-doubt worrying about what she thinks of me. I've noticed that she needs to be herself and not some alter ego. Certain things, places, positions, and such work for her but only when she is present. I, on the other hand, want to be someone else. In fact, I am always struggling to be someone or something else. She is just comfortable in her own skin but I am always fighting against myself.

Still, it was great and, like aways, I can't believe how lucky I am to be married to a woman that is understanding enough to step out of her comfortable place to indulge me. But it is more than that and we both know it. She pushed the reset button. She cleared my head. She brought me back to earth. She gave me what I needed and I just hope I can somehow show her how much I love her.

No Permission

Most of my stories are fiction and fantasy. Other times, I write my "plans" out. This is a combination in a way. Hopefully, I will get to try this shortly and, yeah, I'll write up how it went. Check back soon!

---

"Please, I can't hold it in. I need to cum," I begged. 

"No, you aren't ready yet. Just wait," she said calmly over the sound of my hairbrush spanking. 

I'm standing in the bathroom against the counter looking at myself getting spanked in the mirror. My testicles are just at the edge of the counter and my erect cock is gently resting on the towels I like to cum on. I had to fold two of them twice in order to get them to the right height and add a little softness to the hard counter. She is standing to my left with the wicked little hairbrush paddle methodically working on turning my bottom the shade of a tomato. 

The spanking today started hours ago with a little warm-up just to get the blood flowing. I was already rock hard back then and it was clear I was on a hair trigger already. I was worried I was going to have an accident and told her so. We agreed that if I did, I would get a nice long session with the hairbrush after I cleaned up the mess. A long, hard spanking without the protection of my erect penis was a terrifying threat. 

The post ejaculation spanking is important for me. With an erection, I can handle almost anything. It feels like cheating in a way. After my little fun time, the spanking just hurts and I want it to stop. If I can handle the pain and take a good long and hard spanking after my squirt, then I seem to feel good about myself. I'm happier. When I've caved, used my safe word or somehow convinced her it isn't necessary, I am disappointed later. 

We were careful all day to make sure that when I was spanked, there was nothing touching the underside of my penis that might cause a misfire. In between the spankings, I would do chores or even run errands. Even my rough jeans against my sensitive genitals was arousing. At the grocery store, I had to pretend to study some canned vegetables on the bottom self for a few minutes just to calm down. 

The spankings got harder and harder as the day went on. She would spank me and I would scurry off to complete some task like cleaning the kitchen. At first, I would dig into my task with the energy of the arousal and pain driving me on. After a few minutes or so I would settle in and get the job done but then just as I was wrapping up the chore, I would realize that another spanking awaited me just minutes away. My erection would return and butterflies would fill my stomach. Once the task was complete, I would pick up something for her to spank me with, go find her and ask for another spanking. 

It was humiliating being naked all day in the cold house with my red bottom and clearly aroused penis on display. My legs are covered in dried pre-cum. At times, the tip of my penis would be cold because of the wetness I was secreting. 

At long last, the chores were done and errands completed. It was time for my last spanking. The usual pattern is that I am finally allowed to orgasm sometime during the final spanking of the night. She likes me to just hump her thighs as she spanks me but a couple times she's released me in the middle to go relieve myself in the bathroom or stand in front of her and masturbate. Then, after all of my magic is out of my body, I go back over her lap for the most painful spanking of the day. 

Today we thought about trying something different. I had noticed earlier that when I am spanked standing against the counter in the bathroom, everything is at almost just the right height. I was so aroused all day that during one of the spankings in that position, my cock looked like it does just before I pop. My testicles were pulled up tight in my scrotum and I was completely erect with a nice big drop of pre-cum at the tip. I even touched the cold counter and it felt dangerously good. 

I mentioned all this to my wife and pointed out that if I wasn't careful, I might spurt all over the counter. Rather than the usual over the knee spanking at the end, we decided to try this instead. So, I folded up my towels and assumed the position. 

The spanking could not overshadow how good it felt to finally have some stimulation on my penis. I just rested on the soft terrycloth as the spanking started but even the good feelings could not compete with negate the sting of the spanking. I twitched and waves of electric pleasure emanated from my penis as it moved on the towels. It felt too good to finally be stimulated and I gently humped the counter. I quickly realized that I couldn't thrust too hard without smacking my balls painfully but I didn't need to either; drawing my penis back as I stuck out my bottom as if asking for more punishment almost felt better that pushing forward. 

Quickly, I realized what was about to happen and I froze. I always ask for permission before I cum. "I'm ready to squirt. Can I cum, please?" I asked quickly and breathlessly. I knew that answer before she said it because the answer is always the same. 

"No, we just got started. I think you need to wait a little longer," she said. I was caught and am caught just on the verge of orgasm. I am not at the point of no return but I can see the point not too far away. The sting of the little paddle is also becoming a problem and every twitch I make because of that sting is creating more of a problem as I try not to soak my towel in semen. 

"Please, I really want, ow, to cum," I whine. 

"Well, it isn't about what you want now, is it? I'm doing the spanking so it is all about what I want and I don't think this is the right time for you to have your little fun. Now be a good boy and hold it in," she said sounding very sure of herself. Unfortunately she accented those last four words with hard spanks right where my buttocks connect with my thighs and I lost the battle to stay still. 

Good feelings fill my penis again as I rub involuntarily against my towels. It is going to happen and I won't be able to stop it. "Please, it is happening," I beg. "I can't stop it," I say a little louder. 

"No," is all she says and just spanks harder. 

"I, oh no, please, I can't, ow, it needs to come out, I'm sorry," I ramble as I clench and unclench my hands on the counter. 

"Don't you dare," she warns ominously. 

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, oh oh, <unintelligible blubbering>, please," it sounds like I might actually be crying as I beg. 

"You just wait, mister," she commands. 

"I can't, I can't, its cumming. Oh God, its happening. I can't stop it. I'm sorry, ohhh," I cry as I pull back on the towel. I'm shaking with all the mixed emotions and feelings of the moment. My willpower has failed, my orgasm is seconds away, and my bottom is on fire. Correction: my bottom was on fire. Suddenly, that is not a problem anymore though I know the spanking is continuing uninterrupted. My orgasm has my attention but I don't want to give in to it; I want to appear as blameless as possible. This orgasm happened to me. I didn't create it or make it happen. I am helpless. 

The tingling of the orgasm runs up my legs and my arms signaling to me that I've lost this fight entirely. As I start shaking, the first spurt shoots out. It isn't much but clearly the damn is broken. The first drops are mostly clear pre-cum but the second spurt half a second later is good thick semen. It is the stuff of blowjob nightmares and it pours out into a little puddle right in front of tip of my very engorged and blue tinted penis. 

I am pulled way back so my bottom is sticking out. There is plenty of towel between the tip of my erection and the edge of the towel. Even pulled back as I am, we can both watch the proceedings of my ejaculation. Every muscle seems to be tense as I start to push forward a little as the next spurt emerges. The puddle of my goo extends up the towel as my orgasm reaches its apex. Sounds escape my throat that seem to be some variation on "no" and "sorry" mixed with the moans and groans men make during orgasm. It feels so good as the three more little pulses push the remaining thick semen out of my tiny slit. I can feel Kegel contractions continue even when I am clearly empty. 

And like a light switch is flipped, the sting returns to my bottom and it is worse than ever.  I struggle to stay in place but feel myself slowly pushing forward and rising up on my toes. In seconds, the edge of the counter is touching my thighs, the tip of my still mostly hard penis is almost at the far edge of my cummy towel, and my testicles are also now on the towel and resting in a puddle of semen. 

Through watery tear filled eyes I watch my penis become flaccid as it also rests in my emission. All the while, the spanking continues. Soon I hear myself start begging for her to stop but she knows better. It has to hurt now. She has to take away all the good sexy feelings and make me suffer through this ordeal. I wiggle and jiggle trying to escape the onslaught but only succeed in rolling my soft penis and droopy testicles in semen. At last she relents to my begging and I relax a little. 

"Boy did you make a mess," she says placing the paddle on the counter. I sniffle and nod in agreement. Clean up is a little tricky because I have to use the clean bottom towel to wipe off with but once she is convinced that the sticky stuff is safely contained and I am safe, we hug. "Thank you," I say followed by, "I love you."

Therapy Session

She just feels too good around me. Her short trimmed pubic hair presses warmly against the base of my cock and nuzzles my tight scrotum. My hard cock extends up her canal swelling and throbbing in preparation for my immanent release. I entered her just seconds ago in a single thrust. She was wet from foreplay but hadn't yet orgasmed. Her vagina lovingly squeezes me and encourages my seed to spill into her. I want to wait; to prolong our coupling and last as long as the porn stars as they make their starlets writhe orgasmically until they are begging him to cum on their faces. 

I can't last today and, honestly, I almost never can. I barely move--withdrawing slightly--and I feel the inevitable point-of-no-return upon me and I freeze for a moment. But I can't  hold still and my need takes over. I thrust back in and moan a soft "no" into her neck as I pump my semen deep into her. She pats and strokes my back as I indulge my carnal need and fulfill my evolutionary duty attempting to impregnate my mate. 

My orgasm is wonderful, draining, and and perfect. The feeling of my semen being involuntarily pumped through my narrow opening is as it should be. The process of copulation is completed in seconds as every drop is forced out. Something inside me is relieved by the emptiness. The tension is released. The act is done. I have performed my biological duty and am rewarded with a flood of good feelings, love for my spouse, and sudden desire to rest. 

All would have been perfect in the universe except for the object of my love and desire below me lying frustrated beneath my weight. Her need remains and though she would claim that it was not unpleasant, clearly her experience was inferior to mine. After many such experiences, I no longer could stand the guilt of being such a poor lover. We have an agreement now and though she claims it is unnecessary, I made her swear to enforce the rules. 

"Was that nice, baby?" she asks tenderly. I just nod into her shoulder. "You came so fast. It must have felt very good. It felt like a lot too." I keep nodding trying to enjoy the moment knowing that it was not going to last much longer. 

"Today," she continues, "I think I would prefer to be on top. When you are ready, OK?" I moaned. None of this sounded like a good idea but I had to comply. I climbed off letting my softening cock slip out of her. The cold air felt shocking against my wet member especially considering the soft, warm, and very wet place he had just been. 

I rolled over and she was up in a flash not wanting any of my fluids to drip out and mess up the sheets. She faced the headboard straddling my head and as she lowered herself down to be serviced by me, I saw the white of the load that I had deposited start to leak out. Before I could protest, she was pressed against my mouth and I was tasting our combined secretions. I don't like the taste of what I produce or the texture. When I am aroused, this doesn't seem like a bad idea but as soon as I've had my release, this is just an unpleasant chore. 

I did my best to please her and was successful at not only bringing her to what appeared to be an excellent and powerful orgasm, but I am sure that she was sparkly clean when I was done. As she spasmed around my tongue, I started to enjoy myself a little and even felt my little guy swell-up just a bit. I certainly wasn't at the point of having a serviceable erection yet but it was promising. 

She calmed down and climbed off of my face to take a kneeling position beside me as she gathered herself. One look at my face, and she started to laugh, however. Apparently, I was a slimy mess which tickled her. She glanced down as well and saw my member at half-mast. "Not quite ready to try again, huh?" she mocked. 

"No, but soon I think," I said hopefully. 

"Well, what should we do while we wait? Hmmm?" she pretended to think. "I know, why don't we give you a nice spanking with your favorite hairbrush," she said exuberantly. 

"But, didn't I do a good job?" I whined. 

"Pretty good, I guess," she smiled. "But you know that doesn't really matter, does it? Now, go get the brush," she commanded. 

During my walk to the closet and back, she had taken my spot on the bed with herself propped up by the headboard. She reached out her right hand for the brush while patting her lap with her left. She is a small woman, thin and pale with small perky breasts. She was so pretty like that but still my little guy wasn't completely erect. 

I climbed over her lap and let myself down so that my swollen penis rested between her thighs. It felt good and I think I mustered a little more hardness. Then the cold wood of the brush was tapping my cheeks and I braced for what was to come. 

As far as I am concerned, there is no such thing as a mild hairbrush spanking. I know she didn't start out hard but it stung right from the beginning. I was a wimp about the whole thing and took it very poorly like I usually do. There was kicking, wiggling, and all sorts of protest noises as she reddened by bottom. I don't ever really cry but I do feel sorry for myself whenever she spanks me. Sometimes if I am aroused and excited enough, it feels good to hump her thighs but I wasn't hard enough yet for it to feel really good. I tried though and it gave me something to concentrate on but didn't stimulate me enough to make me forget about the fire she was producing on my bottom. 

"Think you are ready to try and fuck me like a real man now?" she asked during a pause in the spanking. 

"Yes, yes, I'll try," I answered right away. 

"Try?" she asked and started spanking again. "I don't need you to try. I need you to perform like a man this time. You may only cum after I have at least once. Control. You need self-control." 

"Ow, ow, ow," I protested. "I promise I will do it right," I blurted out. 

She slowed down but didn't stop. "You better this time," she said punctuating each word of the the sentence with hard cracks of the brush. "OK, get up and let's see if your little guy is ready for the challenge." 

I didn't want my bottom in danger any longer so I popped up as fast as I could. My "little guy" was only partially erect though clearly swollen and engorged. The head was wet from leaking pre-cum and probably post-cum like the little guy had been crying during the spanking as well. We both inspected him and my dangling testicles for a moment while I knelt beside her. 

I was a sniveling shell of a man with my ineffectual member dangling at half-mast, my bright red bottom stinging behind me, and chastised puppy-dog look on my downcast face. "Well, it is what it is, I guess," my wife said with a little resigned sigh. The disappointment in her voice cut me and I felt myself wanting to cry. 

"I, um, I'm not ready yet," I whispered. "I <hic> please spank me some more. I'm sorry for not being the husband you deserve," I said softly holding back as best I could but felt a tear escape and roll down my face. 

"OK, baby, let's spank some more," she said like a mother to her little boy. She guided me gently over her lap again, tapped the wood to my already stinging bottom, and when she took it away as she raised her arm to deliver the necessary impact, pain, and punishment her little boy deserved, I wiggled my bottom back and forth and felt it jiggle like it was already swollen. 

Crying during a spanking really doesn't come naturally to me. There are so many things happening that for some reason the tears rarely come. The shame I felt made this one different. It felt like she really was disappointed in me and when the spanking started, each spank contained some of her anger and disappointment. The tears came suddenly and surprised me. I was already ashamed of my pre-mature ejaculation, having to taste my own ejaculate, being spanked the first time, and then needing to be spanked even more. I went limp over her lap only kicking the bed a little and grabbing at the comforter. The sound of my own crying and sobbing filled the room. 

She let me have a good cry encouraging me along with the brush alternating painful spanks on my bottom cheeks. All the while she rubbed my back like when she did when I orgasmed earlier and said soothingly and softly, "its OK, baby, let it all out," over and over. 

She stopped when it was clear the fight was gone and I was cried out. "There, there," she cooed, "All better now?" I just nodded. "Good, now, I want you to hump my legs a little so that you pee-pee gets nice and hard so that you can put it back into my pussy and make me happy. Think you can do that?" I nodded vigorously. "I'm going to give you spanks right here," she said tapping the brush right on my lower crack, "until you get it up." It didn't sound like a question but I nodded anyway and started humping her legs. 

It wouldn't have taken too long rubbing my penis against her soft warm thighs for me to get hard but every time I reared back, she spanked me right over my bottom hole causing the burn to reach a new sensitive place. I would slam down to escape that spank and shove my penis between her thighs only to be rewarded by a hard spank on my clenched bottom. It was so difficult to focus on the task at hand but she softly rubbed my back and seductively chanted, "that's my good boy. Time to get all big and hard for me. I want you in my pussy. Come on baby, let's get big and hard so you can give your wife a good fucking. Imagine how good it will feel when I cum all around that big cock of yours. You'll be so proud that you made me cum. Won't that be nice? It'll be so nice to make love to your wife like a real man. You'll get to pound me so hard my fillings will rattle. Come on, baby, just a little harder. Ooo, I feel it getting hard between my thighs. Does that feel good? Yeah, I bet it does. Just a little more. Oh so, hard. OK, get up; time to fuck me!" 

I was up in a flash. She flipped over with the brush still in her hand and assumed the position of a wanton woman in heat: on her knees, ass in the air, spread revealing her gaping labia lips and pink pucker between perfect pale cheeks, and with her face pressed against the bed. I got behind her and though I was hard, I wasn't rock hard. Tears were still in my eyes making the world a little watery and my nose was sniffly from my cry. I plunged into her and even a little less than fully erect, I sank to the hilt. She moaned in acceptance. 

I took her. That is the only way to describe it. Our first coupling of the night was making love like if we were trying to conceive a baby. This was primal fucking. I tried to pound her into the headboard. It wasn't long before she was convulsing on the bed making low sounds from deep in her throat as she came. I grabbed her hips tighter and moved her over my now rock hard cock. She gripped the comforter and seemed to just hold her breath. She told me later that it was just waves of a long single orgasm. I wanted to hear her beg for me to stop which she might have done had I not felt my own orgasm building. My stinging bottom was forgotten, my tears dried, and the little boy was all grown up as I pumped my seed into her again. We froze in place feeling my member pulsating inside her seemingly in time with the contractions of her quivering vaginal walls. 

Then it was perfectly complete and both of us gasped for air. I slipped from her and quickly began to shrink as I rolled onto my back on the bed cringing as the sting reawakened when my bottom pressed into the mattress  She flopped over on her side bringing her legs together trapping my spend inside. The room smelled of our sex. I pulled her close and then on top of me. She straddled me and I felt the warm fluid drip from her onto my flaccid penis. We dozed off and awoke an hour later. As she snuggled into my neck, I hugged her tight. Her hair in my face, breasts pressed against my chest, perfect ass in my hands, I found myself getting hard. As I slowly entered her that third time, she moaned her approval.