Descent

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.

Original Disclaimer:

If this is the first piece of my writing that you have ever read, please don't. This is dark. It may be the darkest thing I've written. Most of my writing is a little disturbing but this one is next level. You've been warned.

 

Anticipation 

I was never a horrible kid. Mom always says that she was too strict. She harbors much guilt because of that. But I will admit to getting into lots of trouble. Most of it was goofing off in class, being late, lots of lying, and general monkey business. It was hard to say what my problem was, but, in retrospect, I was able to survive on a 50% effort. From that perspective, I was bored. 

Mom’s discipline might have worked on any other boy, but on me, it just sent my overactive imagination screaming down a path that caused all of us to take an interesting turn. I can’t remember my first spanking because it happened when I was so young. Spanking was always part of my discipline and as I grew up, it was a normal activity. My sister who is two years younger than me was also spanked but not as frequently. 

The discipline pattern was not particularly dramatic or in itself inspiring. Mom always did the spanking, spankings were always administered to a naked spankee, and there were only a few places where these would take place. Mom’s favorite place was in the bathroom but occasionally we would be spanked in the living room, or her bedroom. The ritual was to go to my room, get naked and then go to the designated spanking place. Sometimes there was a time that I was supposed to meet her there but usually it was just a command to meet her in the bathroom for my spanking. 

The change started in middle school when I subconsciously discovered the low level of effort that I needed to exert in order to excel. Coupled with puberty, spankings started taking on a totally different flavor. I never told anyone that I was spanked and I had an impression from fellow students that being spanked was definitely as shameful a punishment as one could get. Getting grounded was cool but spanking wasn’t. Spanking was humiliating and I was never humiliated at school or anywhere. The humiliation was the first spark. The second was the nudity that was certainly related to the humiliation since no one was ever naked around each other. And the third thing was that sex and spanking was getting very confused to me. What little I knew about sex involved the private parts when people who loved each other were naked. When I was spanked, I was naked and my private parts were touching and being touched by someone that loved me. But sex wasn’t supposed to be between a boy and his mom which led back to the feedback loop of humiliation, confusion, and the default reaction of sex. 

I stopped really dreading spankings some time in seventh grade. I don’t remember the process exactly, but one day I was walking home from school with a note from a teacher about some missing homework and thinking about the spanking that mom was going to give me. As I walked, my penis got hard and my bottom started to tingle. I was alone but it was uncomfortable and I started to think that when my penis was hard and I was naked, it never was this uncomfortable. I started thinking about the relief I would feel when I would be able to free it from my jeans. And that led to thinking about that dreadful walk to the bathroom where mom would be sitting on the edge of the tub waiting maybe with the paddle or maybe without. I realized that I loved that walk down the hall and butterflies in my stomach, the tingle in my bottom, the feel of cool air on stiff erection, the feel of my testicles against my thighs, the magic moment when I bent over her lap and felt the soft fabric of whatever she was wearing touch me there. The spanking itself would hurt so bad that it made me shiver but then it would be over and the burn would turn into a tingle that would sooth me all night long. I almost ran home to deliver the note. 

Mom read the note that day and I had to pretend to be upset when she told me to meet her in the bathroom. I struggled to drag my feet as I left the kitchen. Mom looked sad, angry, and disappointed which is never a good sign. It meant that she would probably use the paddle which just made the anticipation of the spanking higher. She always spanked with her hand but sometimes would switch to paddle mid way through if she thought we needed it. The paddle burned and stung and always produced tears of repentance. The tingle of anticipation in my bottom intensified with this prospect. 

I undressed in my room and relished the feeling of my privates being free of the confines of my clothes. In the mirror on the wall I inspected my still hairless privates and my pale behind. I was spending too much time and couldn’t delay the inevitable any longer. It was time for my spanking and though I wanted the moment to last longer, I had to at least start walking down the hall. To an observer, it would have appeared that I was going slowly because I was dreading the spanking. The reality was that the anticipation and pure sexual energy of the situation was making me almost nonfunctional. I cracked the door open and glanced for my sister and then realized that the added dread of seeing my sister (and her seeing me) was just going to add to the tension. I opened the door and now looked for her and hoped that she would see me. I had to walk past her door on the way to the bathroom so if she was in her room, I might still face that nightmare. Walking was a challenge but I moved down the hallway and as I approached her room, I knew she was in there. I didn’t make eye contact, but I could feel her eyes. 

Mother was waiting for me and looking a little impatient which wasn’t going to be good for my bottom. I closed the door behind me and walked past her so that I was standing at her right side for when she told me to climb over her lap. My penis was so hard that it pointed at my chin. Though I was still officially pre-adolescent, erections weren’t a problem but I wasn’t impressing anyone with the size of my manhood. I had been growing lately and was thinking in my room that even today it looked larger than before. Mother didn’t comment one way or the other though I sensed that she wanted me over her lap faster like she was uncomfortable with an erect male member just staring her in the face. 

A note about layout will make the rest of my tale more understandable. The house was an older ranch without all the modern master bedroom and bathroom suite business. In fact, until we added another bathroom, the house had only one. All three bedrooms were on one end of the house with a family room, dining room, kitchen, and slightly more formal living room spreading out on the other side of the house. Nothing about the house implied that anyone had really designed, architected or even thought much about how people live in houses. For instance, to get from one end of the house to the other meant more or less walking through every other room in the house or past each bedroom. There was no privacy. The bathroom was exactly the same. It was almost a hall in itself with the tub on the right, and the sink then the toilet on the left. There was a mirror on the bathroom door that covered nearly the entire door. So, when one is standing to the right of someone sitting on the edge of the tub, one is also looking at a reflection of the whole situation in the mirror just feet away. And when one is draped over someone’s lap having their bottom methodically lit afire, one can look straight ahead and watch all the action and all the tears like it was on some sort of interactive, sense-o-rama, TV. 

Mom didn’t lecture for too long but she did chastise me enough to bring the humiliation, shame and embarrassment of the situation to an even higher pitch. I was bad for not doing my homework and now I was naked in front of my mother about to be put over her lap, spanked, and forced to cry. At last I was ordered over her lap and my penis came to rest on her lap. She was wearing a wool skirt that day. I can still see it in my mind. It was cold out and she was wearing a plaid wool skirt in rusts and yellows. Her top escapes me, but the skirt was almost ankle length and the fabric was coarse and almost felt like it was scratching my sensitive skin. The friction and the warmth and the uneven surface stimulated me as I found the position. 

It felt like mom started slower that day but I know now that she probably didn’t. The spanking wasn’t painful at first and just produced heat and movement as I gently rubbed against her lap. Soon she changed to the paddle and the pain crept up on me before it overcame me. In the mirror my face contorted, twisted, and turned red. The tears were as much an expression of relief as they were a response to the pain. The spanking ended and I was quickly brought to me feet. Mom didn’t believe in long comforting sessions over her lap. I was up and, as usual, ordered back to me room to get dressed and start on my homework. My erection was still there and now was as red as my face. The tension wasn’t entirely gone either. I walked back to my bedroom and this time, when I passed my sister’s room I knew she was watching. 

The Sexual Awakening 

After my last experience, I almost tried to get into trouble. The tension was palpable for me. I didn’t understand it but I dreamed at night and during the day about being spanked. In my dreams, all sorts of people spanked me: girls and boys, men and women, parents, teachers, pastors, or just people I saw on the street. The dreams of being spanked by women and girls were the best and I didn’t know why. 

It was a Wednesday when I was caught completely goofing off. Actually, I was in my dream world and just not paying attention so it was ironic that my obsession with being spanked was getting me in trouble. It was history class and I knew the material. I was in my own little world and missed the question and even the fact that I was being called on. My history teacher doesn’t like me because 1) I don’t do the homework or pay attention in class, and 2) I still have an ‘A’ because I read the book and know the material. The class is a waste of time for me and teachers hate it when they know that you think everything they are doing is a waste of time. So, I got a note to bring home to my mother that she was going to have to sign so I could bring it back the next day. 

History is my second class of the day so I had all day to think about what was going to happen and the  scenarios played out in my head. I was distracted, barely there, and was going to be lucky to get home without being hit by a car. I took forever to get home and when I got there, a bike not belonging to our family was parked next to my sister’s. My sister Jenny had her friend Claudine over to play and they were busy in her room. This was almost too much to bear for me. First, if mom didn’t spank until Claudine left, I was going to be in the agony from even more waiting. And if she spanked me while Claudine was there, I might be seen by her. 

Mom was in the ‘formal’ living room watching TV. I decided that it was better to be seen by Claudine than have to wait for my spanking so I brought her the note as soon as I could. Mom looked tired and wasn’t very happy to see that I had a note. She was wearing her workout outfit and I realized that she was probably tired from her exercise class. “Oh Dan, I am so tired of you bringing these home. You make me so mad sometimes.” 

I just tried to look sorry. 

“Whatever, I’m not moving so go get your clothes off and I’ll spank you in here.” 

This I hadn’t even considered. Mom must not know that Claudine was in the house. I went to my room doing the math and as I passed Jenny’s room I realized that there was no way I was going to get this spanking without being seen completely naked by two 11 year old girls. I was shaking with anticipation as I got undressed. Again my penis looked even bigger than before and I admired my still pale bottom cheeks for just a minute, and then I opened my door and started one amazingly long walk to my fate. As I passed Jenny’s room, I didn’t look in but they stopped talking, then silence, and then whispers. They quietly followed me through the whole house. I knew they were there. The painful spanking was the furthest thing from my mind. Instead, naked little girls were touching me and torturing me delightfully. 

Mom was still watching TV and didn’t really seem in the mood for dealing with me. This, it turned out, was a real problem. The lecture was almost non-existent and I was over her knees in an instant. As I looked back, I saw two little pre-teen faces peeking around the corner. 

Mom started spanking me with her hand but I was unresponsive to the punishment. The heat built too slowly and the wonderful feeling of her warm-up suit’s fleece against my erection had me completely enthralled. The little squirming motions I was making just made the feeling better. In fact, I was starting to feel really good when mom stopped abruptly. 

“We are going to be here all day if I just use my hand. That workout must have really taken it out of me. Go get the paddle,” she said as she sort of pushed me off her lap. Out of the corner of my eye, two little girl faces disappeared. I don’t know where they were hiding but I knew they hadn’t run far. They were watching me as I walked to the bathroom where mom kept the paddle in the linen closet. I knew they were watching and they could see everything. My heart beat in my ears and my penis even twitched. The little girls tortured me and I never even saw them.

I rarely touched the paddle with my hands. It wasn’t one of those big fraternity paddles or even one of those novelty paddles with the cheesy sayings about “heat for the seat” or whatever. This was like a paddle ball paddle but just a little heavier. I think it may have originally been a toy but that was a long time ago; now it was my punishment paddle. 

It got heavier as I walked back to mom. I just stared at the paddle as I held it in both hands. It was like a sacred object to me. It was the most dreaded thing in my young life and I was holding it in my own hands. I was bringing it my punisher. I was delivering the instrument of my execution into the hands of the executioner. My ultimate humiliation was in my own hands. My bottom tingled and burned with anticipation and my penis just throbbed. 

Had mom not been completely engrossed in the TV when I got back, I think she would have done things differently. I stood beside her for at least minute until the commercials started. Then she took the paddle and drew me over her lap so she could finish my inconvenient punishment. Something about her disinterest was even more humiliating. Here I was about to be spanked to tears and my mother was hardly even paying attention to me. The punishment was necessary but only really involved my bottom. She could have been a machine. 

Mom was hoping to get me crying before the show came back on again. She wasn’t paying attention or she would have noticed the two faces around the corner. She might have noticed my erection wasn’t just a little boy’s innocent erection anymore. She might have seen the look of sexual excitement in my eyes or smelled the pheromones oozing off my skin. She might have questioned why I was holding the paddle like it was the Holy Grail itself. 

I settled down on her lap again and the fleece kissed my penis. I was way over her lap so that my testicles rested between her legs and my erection was pressed hard against her left thigh. I had learned long ago to make sure that the balls weren’t crushed so I always made sure that they either hung off the side of her right thigh or were in the middle.

She started spanking but it didn’t hurt much. It just made everything more intense. I was wiggling and squirming and the fleece was driving me crazy. The little faces around the corner were staring at my bottom with big, wide, unblinking eyes. A wonderful feeling in my penis caught and kept my attention. It was powerful and scary. It caused me to cry out and push back and forth with my hips. It became overwhelming and then it overwhelmed as I felt my penis jerk and spasm beneath me. 

Mom must have thought that I was crying because she stopped right away. I was shaking like I do when I am crying over her lap. Like always, she pulled me right up and we both discovered that something wasn’t like it always is. There was wetness on mom’s sweat suit and I wasn’t quite as hard as I was before. The source of the wetness was obvious as some was still leaking out and slowly running down the shaft to my scrotum. Mom gasped an ‘oh’ in shock. 

“Go get mommy a paper towel,” she ordered. And I was off as two little faces disappeared around the corner again. I went to the kitchen, grabbed a couple paper towels, and came back to the living room without seeing the owners of the faces. Mom cleaned up her leg but looked really embarrassed. She told me to clean my self off but I didn’t really know what to do so I promised I would. I was still oozing the stuff anyway. I took the used paper towels and the paddle and headed back to my room. As I threw the garbage away and put the paddle back I realized with a little relief and also a little sadness that the tension was gone for the first time in weeks. 

Jenny’s Spanking 

I had a lot to think about after that but I didn’t have long to think about it. After a couple of days, the tension came back. I started thinking about spanking all the time again and almost did something wrong so that I would get a note from a teacher. Then along came Jenny to the rescue. I saw it coming and I did nothing to stop it. 

The problem was that we were late to school every day for about a week. Monday and Tuesday weren’t too bad but Wednesday was a panic. On Thursday we weren’t technically late but it was way too much work not to be. I saw it coming and knew that if we blew it on Friday, mom would probably string us both up. It isn’t important how, but no one knew that I caused us to be abysmally late on Friday. As mom drove us to school in her bathrobe, we were informed that we should expect to be spanked when we got home from school and that we would be getting a spanking after school every day for a week as a reminder. I couldn’t even concentrate at school. 

Jenny didn’t get spanked nearly as often as me which is strange because she is more outright ‘bad’ than I am. I’m just bored. Jenny has a temper and a malicious streak that can be fearsome to behold though it appears rarely. Usually, she is just a sweet kid with friends, dolls, and stuff. 

Getting spanked together wasn’t unheard of either. It didn’t happen often but when it did, it was just like solo experiences except that two of us were there. It had been some time since the last time we were spanked together but since modesty in our house wasn’t really an option, it wasn’t like we didn’t see each other naked very often. 

I was in a fog all through school as I ran through the possible ways things could go. Who would go first? Would that thing happen to me again? Would mom use the paddle on Jenny? Would she use it on me?

Jenny and I don’t cross paths during the day since she is still in fifth grade at the elementary school. The first time I saw her after the announcement was when I got home after school. She was obviously very upset and was saying things like it wasn’t her fault and that she would never do it again and that mom wasn’t being fair. It was good speech but totally lost on mom who just told us to get undressed and meet her in the bathroom. 

Jenny was almost crying as she walked to her room. I was behind Jenny and mom was presumably behind me. As I started getting undressed, I heard the linen closet door open and close. Mom was going to use the paddle on at least one of us. I was undressed pretty fast but I didn’t want to look like I was looking forward to the spanking too much so I again spent time looking in the mirror. After last time when I made the trip back to my room past the invisible eleven year olds, I had inspected myself in this same mirror. The crimson off my bottom cheeks amazed me. I couldn’t image how I had taken such a hard spanking without crying. Yet there was the proof glowing back at me in the mirror. Today, again, I checked out my pale backside and anticipated the punishment to come. 

After what I thought was an appropriate amount of time, I started my walk to the bathroom. Jenny was just on her way out as well. Before she looked me in the eyes, she took a long look at my privates. The tension was building and something inside me was looking to be released. 

Jenny, by the way, was just barely starting to develop. She was smooth and hairless everywhere but the top of her head. The chest was completely flat without a hint of breasts or anything. The only thing that gave her away was her hips that were just barely starting to flare out and her bottom was more rounded than the rest of her pencil thin structure. 

Jenny and I met mom in the bathroom. I could tell Jenny didn’t want to go first but mom was madder at her than at me. I was sort of OK with this except that I was getting anxious again and wanted to get things underway. Mom’s lecturing was very quickly over and Jenny was thrown over mom’s lap. I had sort of noticed that mom wasn’t really lecturing anymore. Maybe she thought we had heard it all before. For whatever reason, Jenny was getting her hide tanned by mom’s hand and was making plenty of noise about the whole thing. I was experiencing that strange mix of excitement and anticipation watching and knowing that I was just minutes away from the same painful experience. 

Jenny was kicking and squirming and just writhing around on mom’s lap. Her distress was authentic though maybe a little melodramatic for my taste. After all mom was just spanking her with her hand. How bad could this be? Still, all the movement was causing Jen to strike the most amazing poses especially when viewed from behind her. I knew enough about sex and anatomy to know that the magic place was between a girl’s legs where if a boy put his penis, ‘sex’ happened. I was just putting this altogether in my head and connecting it with the pinnacle experience just a few days before over mom’s knee. As such, I was very interested in what was between Jenny’s legs and she was showing it to me during her spanking. 

Again, Jenny had no hair there so there was nothing really to hide her most intimate place. It was like she was winking at me. One second I could see everything and the next she would rotate her hips forward and nothing would be visible. In my mind, I saw how I could put my erect penis into that little hole that kept appearing and disappearing. Then I imagined that if mom was spanking her at the same time how she would be writhing on me and I imagined that it would feel as good or better than when I rubbed on mom’s leg. The image of Jenny impaled on my erection and then writhing like she was while mom spanked her just filled my mind. Oh yes, and she would be crying too just like she was during the spanking. Crying and helpless and it just wouldn’t matter because she wouldn’t be able to get away and all the while she would be squeezing and rubbing my penis. I was in a whole new world. 

It is important when you are standing waiting for your spanking while your sister is being spanked in front of you to keep focus on the situation at hand. I was transfixed on the place between my sister’s legs that kept opening and closing and the sound of her obvious distress when mom decided that she really was faking it and picked up the paddle. Then I lost it. To me, it seemed like a completely natural thing to do would be to touch my own penis. It was calling to me. It needed something and touching it couldn’t hurt. So I did but it wanted more. It wanted to be rubbed. So I did just a little. 

I think mom knew what was going to happen even though I sure didn’t. Out of her peripheral vision she probably registered that I had changed my position or something because she glanced up just as I approached the point of no return. She stopped spanking and yelled “No, stop that”. I froze and ripped my hand away just as a sperm eruption began. 

Again, youth is a wonderful thing. Though I didn’t ejaculate a huge amount, it sure went a long way. My knees buckled and I just stared in disbelief (along with my mother) at my erection as it spasmed and shot first a pearly white ball of sperm a foot in the air and then just dribbled out the rest out down the shaft. It felt wonderful but that was sort of lost on me at the time. The sensation passed in a few seconds and I dared to look at mom. 

Jenny had missed the whole show. She just lay gurgling and hiccupping as she cried over mom’s lap. Mom looked a little confused like she wasn’t really prepared to handle the situation. Her first step was to get Jenny off her lap which you would think would be difficult considering her level of distress but never underestimate the motivation of a small child to get away from a spanking situation. Jenny got up quickly and stood facing mom and me rubbing her bottom and crying softer now that she wasn’t in risk of getting more spanks because she wasn’t crying enough. It didn’t take her long to figure out that something wasn’t right. Mom didn’t just grab me and throw me over her lap like she usually did. Instead, she produced a washcloth from beside her, beckoned me toward her, and said something about being afraid something like this might happen. I didn’t know what she meant. 

Jenny just stared in curious and morbid fascination at my privates. The first shot was on the linoleum sort of between all of us but the rest coated my penis like icing and was slowing dripping down toward my balls. I was losing my erection slowly and even my ball sack was starting to loosen up and descend. I was mortified, scared and most of all, ashamed. I didn’t know why, but mom was looking at me like I had just killed a baby. It was like she was ashamed of me and that was enough to make me feel even worse. She beckoned me close and I took some nervous steps in her direction. She didn’t immediately pull me over her lap but instead, used the rough washcloth to wipe the semen off my overly sensitive privates. She even did a squeezing pull to get that last of it out of me. What would have felt very pleasant minutes before was almost ticklish beyond bearing now. When I was clean and recovering from her onslaught, she just bent over and wiped the one drop off the floor, handed the soiled rag to my sister, told her to throw it in the hamper (which was right beside her) and then, finally, pulled me over her lap. Jenny, by the way, was not happy about being handed the rag one bit. 

We all discovered something very interesting over the next several minutes. The spankings lately were not particularly painful to me but I didn’t really understand why. I thought men didn’t feel pain as much as kids and that as I grew older, she would have to spank me harder to get through my thick man skin. That theory proved far more false than true. As mom started spanking me that day, I felt like I had gone back several years to when spankings really, really hurt again. It was amazing. The stinging wasn’t that pleasant tingle like it had been in the living room. The heat wasn’t warm but instead was fire burning my flesh. And I immediately stopped acting like the proud teenager and started acting like a little boy getting a spanking. In fact, I probably was acting just like my sister had been just minutes before. 

The difference was completely apparent when mom let me up. She had only given me a couple swats with the paddle but I was making such a noise that she must have thought she was killing me. When I stood up, there was no erection. There was no proud penis pointing at the ceiling. I was a little boy again with a small, soft, droopy penis and two little insignificant and harmless testicles. My erection was my spanking protector and without it, I was powerless. 

Two plans were formed: one in mom’s head and one in mine. 

Using Jenny 

Mom wasn’t a happy person. This is important because how she solved her problems was born out of a person that was deeply angry. I pieced it together over the following years. It was fairly obvious mom and dad weren’t getting along. In fact, they had officially separated and were getting a divorce. 

Before this, he was rarely home and when he was, they were usually fighting. Apparently the reason they were fighting had to do with Jenny. Now I don’t know if dad had a problem with little girls or something but Jenny and dad seemed to really get along well. In fact, dad and Jenny went on more dad and daughter dates than mom and dad did. He was always buying her dolls and toys and stuff. I was jealous but it made her happy and she was nicer to be around when she was happy. Besides, I didn’t want dolls, dresses, or to go to tea at some little fancy place. Mom, however, didn’t feel the same way. Mom and dad were falling apart for other reasons but the Jenny and dad relationship just made mom angrier. When dad was home, he would sleep on the sofa bed. One time though, I got up early and Jenny was sleeping with him which I thought was weird that she would go sleep on the uncomfortable sofa bed instead of her own bed. I marked it up to nightmares and it didn’t dawn on me until I was in college that when Jenny official got up that morning, she got out of her own bed. In other words, when I was in the bathroom or getting dressed or being somehow distracted, Jenny got out of bed with dad and went to her own bed so that it looked like that was where she had been all night. But still, if dad was messing around with Jenny, it wasn’t too serious because Jenny sure acted naïve when it came to sexual stuff. Or maybe she was just acting? She was a great actor. 

The real issue, however, was how much mom blamed Jenny for everything wrong between her and dad. It was this fundamental underlying hate for Jenny that blinded mom to how wrong her plan was for solving my spanking immunity problem. 

My plan, which was a complete failure, was to be really careful about letting my erections touch anything until the spanking was safely over. I was working out the details of positions especially because if I had an orgasm too soon during the spanking then the magic power would wear off too quickly. I decided that if I parted my legs a little, and positioned my testicles over mom’s right thigh, my balls would have room between my legs to not get crushed and then I could maybe use the little space between her legs to get my penis out of danger. It was a plan and I only had to wait until three thirty in the afternoon Saturday to try it out. I even practiced in my room with a couple pillows just to be sure it would work. It turned out to be a waste of time. 

Jenny and I were very careful Friday night to be invisible. Friday evenings were the worst maybe because mom would realize that her marriage was over when she alone that night. On Saturday morning, mom emerged in her bathrobe to tell us that our spankings would be at 3:30 in the afternoon in her room. Then she disappeared leaving Jenny and I staring at each other across cereal bowls in the kitchen. Jenny looked almost ready to cry already. 

Like I’ve said, mom’s room was not a normal place for spankings. The day went slowly as Jenny and I tried to court mom’s favor by doing chores, being quiet, just generally trying to exude a ‘good kid’ vibe. Mom was in another world and never even noticed. 

At 3:30, we converged on mom’s room where we were stunned to find her still in her bathrobe like she hadn’t even tried to get out of bed all day. Mom sat on the edge of the bed and pointed at Jenny, beckoned her over, threw her down, and started spanking her with her hand. “Fetch the paddle,” was all she said. I made the errand almost running. The longer I was gone, the more I was going to miss of Jenny’s torture. I was starting to really like watching Jenny get spanked. It was so amazing how helpless she was and how much pain mom just poured into her bottom. If she knew the magic of having an erect penis, she would be really mad. It was unfair in a way; she had nothing to protect herself from the spanking. 

Mom looked at me for a second and just barked, “don’t touch yourself,” and then went back to her work on Jenny. I had no intention of touching myself but I completely misunderstood mom’s reason. I figured she was worried about the carpet or had forgotten a rag or something. As a matter of fact, she was prepared last time but seemed to have forgotten the rag this time. 

Now I was ready to do my thing again. My erection was throbbing, my balls were a tight little package, and I was pointed straight at the ceiling. If the wind blew strong enough I was going to make a mess. Part of me wanted to because I needed it. The little bottom in front of me was turning bright red. Her squirming was sensuous in so many ways. But the best part was her crying. It was Jenny’s distress that really worked for me. 

“Give me the paddle,” mom demanded. Jenny immediately started to really struggle but mom held her down effortlessly. She took aim and labeled Jenny’s small bottom on both cheeks at the same time. Jenny convulsed in pain and renewed sobbing. “You like that don’t you?” mom asked me. “I do too,” she winked. I was starting to think something wasn’t entirely right about this situation. 

I was starting to understand it was spanking that I liked. It didn’t matter who or anything. Among other things, I liked the degrading aspect of spanking. It was fascinating being helpless and having to trust someone not to hurt you and then have that trust violated with such violence. Trust me. I love you. Now cry. I loved it all. It was strange because as I watched Jenny’s agony I sort of wished it was me. As silly as it was, sitting on the outside looking in wasn’t quite as good as being involved in the drama. I found out much later that being the one wielding the paddle wasn’t as powerful either. Sure, the person spanking the other is the one in control, but they have nothing at stake. No, being in the nursery position like a little baby, being helpless, being out of control, being used, being punished, and having to trust that eventually the pain will stop; now that is a powerful experience. 

Mom was spanking Jenny with the paddle very slowly. She wanted this to last. She was torturing Jenny and me. I wanted something and the longer Jenny was spanked, the longer I would have to wait. My penis was hungry and it wanted relief. My bottom was tingling and needed the fire. I needed to trade places with Jenny and have mom pay attention to me. I wanted to be the center of attention when I cried, when I humped, and when I ejaculated. My need was blindingly intense. 

“OK, Jenny now you have to make your brother get ready for his spanking,” mom said right after she stopped spanking Jenny. “Get up. Hurry now.” 

Jenny was still reeling from the last spanks and was still working to assimilate the pain as well as the commands from mom. Mom yanked her off her lap and spun her around to face me. “On your knees” mom commanded the crying girl. Jenny looked at mom with a question in her eyes. Mom quickly switched the paddle to her left hand and punctuated the sentence, “I said, get on you knees girl,” with crisp swats to Jenny’s behind. Jenny’s crying increased in earnest with this unforeseen punishment and she dropped to her knees directly in front of me. 

“Good girl,” mom crooned with malicious sarcasm. “You brother has a problem. See when his penis is all hard like this, his spankings don’t hurt as much. Now you want his spanking to hurt as much as yours right?” Jenny nodded. “Right. So what I want you to do is rub his penis until all that white stuff comes out so that his penis gets soft. Then I’ll spank him. OK?” Jenny was crying continually and didn’t respond so mom spanked her again. Jenny was waving her hands in claws in front of her as mom landed crack after crack on her bottom. By now tears were rolling down her neck, she was drooling, and snot was clearly accumulating on her upper lip. Her hair was a sweaty mess and her eyes were getting puffy. 

“Now step close to your sister. Closer. Come on right next to her face so that she can see what she is doing.” I was inches in front of her and I could feel her breath on me. Jenny’s eyes appeared closed and it really didn’t look like she knew what to do with her hands. A long moment paused while Jenny looked confused and unsure. I was dying of anticipation. Mom broke the moment by giving Jenny another surprise swat with the paddle. Then fate intervened. Jenny reacted to the spank by jerking forward and up bringing the side of her face directly against my shaft. Her left eye was just almost level with the tip. It was warm and wet and vibrating nicely with her cries and I convulsed. Jenny pulled away in disgust but mom saw the look on my face. I was right on the edge. If Jenny held her face against me, it would be all over. Mom grabbed the back of Jenny’s head and pushed her forward against me and then, bless her twisted heart, started spanking Jenny with the paddle. Jenny’s screams were directed near my balls. Her hands finally stopped waving and grabbed my legs. When her face touched me again, I couldn’t control myself and made one rocking motion with my hips dragging my erection through the drool, snot, and tears on the left side of her face. 

Now, I had had two orgasms in life up to this point. The first was pressed against mom’s fleece sweat suit which was good. The second was out in the air which also wasn’t bad. This was the third and it was the best yet. The other two were dry, but this one was wet and warm. I shot two good shots this time and they added to the mess in Jenny’s hair. The second made a streak across her forehead. Then I involuntarily pulled down and while the tip of penis rested against her warm cheek and her mouth fluttered as she cried against my shaft, I pulsed out the rest. It was amazing and I was in heaven. Mom stopped spanking Jenny and let her head go. Jenny was almost hugging me now but then she realized what she was hugging and pulled away. Then, in a priceless moment if there ever was one, Jenny saw that my penis was covered with that white stuff again and she realized with horror that her face must also be covered. Mom pushed Jenny back against the wall where she settled into just a whimpering sound. And then mom grabbed a tissue from her night stand, wiped me off, threw the tissue as the sniveling Jenny, grabbed my wrist and pulled me over her lap. 

My magic was shrinking beneath me and the pain started quickly after she began spanking. The pain was everything it was the day before and then some. Whatever pleasant feelings I had less than a minute before disappeared into agony. 

When mom’s anger was spent, I was no longer fighting the pain but was limp on her lap a shadow of the boy-man I had been standing with the proud erection before her. The spanking over, I was abruptly brought to my feet. Jenny was still on the floor inspecting with disgust the sticky stuff I put all over her face and hair.

“See you both tomorrow at 3:30,” she smiled. “Now get out.” 

Jenny and I retreated from her room. We didn’t talk to each other. I went to my room and inspected my bright red bottom, got dressed, and got out of the house. When I left, Jenny was on her bed looking very blue. She hadn’t gotten cleaned up at all nor had she put clothes on. I thought that was strange but didn’t know what to say so I didn’t say anything. I came back a couple hours later. Jenny was watching TV so I sat down with her. She was clothed but it didn’t look like she meant to get dressed. She looked like she was in a daze. She hadn’t washed her face or gotten my stuff out of her hair. At some point food appeared on the table but mom disappeared. We ate. We watched TV. We didn’t talk. Something had changed. 

Jenny’s Fate 

Sunday was interesting because mom made us go to church. She dressed us up all neat and clean. She was the picture of holiness and goodness with everyone at church. Afterwards, there was a potluck so we stayed. Jenny was quiet but had some friends around so she was occupied. I hung out with some kids as well. Mom explained to everyone how my father was overseas on an important business trip which was a total lie. It looked like we were going to be there past our 3:30 appointment when mom announced that we were going to go home. Jenny actually shed a tear at this news which warmed everyone’s hearts that a young person loved church so much that they didn’t want to go home. 

The car ride was quiet. As mom turned off the car in garage, she turned to us and said, “see you in my room,” then got out before we could even respond. Jenny started really crying now and I did something right. Well, it wasn’t really right because it was self-serving: I gave her a hug. She actually hugged me back for a minute while she calmed down. I even said things like, “it will be OK,” and other trite little phrases. I made her feel better and made her forget I was the cause of it all. 

We walked through the house and I dropped Jenny off in her room. “I’ll be right back,” I told her. Then I went to my room and quickly got undressed. When I got back to Jenny’s, as I feared, she was right where I left her and she was complete clothed. Any normal person would have noticed the raging hard-on sported by the boy whose orgasm would soon because caused by the girl before him and think it would probably serve him well to get this girl’s clothes off. And indeed, that was the case. Jenny, however, saw me as helping her to not get in worse trouble from mom. 

I undressed the nearly catatonic Jenny and she thought I was the hero. I was helping her. I was the good guy. Oh, how wrong she was. 

Mom again spanked Jenny first. When she had reduced Jenny to a puddle, mom put her again on her knees before me. And then taking the crying girls hands, she wrapped them around my erection and told her to rub it up and down. Jenny gave me a functional handjob as mom spanked her savagely. I peaked and shot all over Jenny’s hands and even had a shot hit her chest. Then I was over mom’s lap and the spanking was beginning. Jenny, meanwhile, was sitting against the wall inspecting the sticky stuff on her hands. 

That night, I helped Jenny get cleaned up and dressed and then I played dolls with her for a little while. 

We were ready for school twenty minutes early on Monday but it didn’t help. After school, we found ourselves again naked in mom’s room. After Jenny’s spanking she was again on her knees in front of me. She was reaching for my penis when mom stopped her and said, “he makes such a mess. I think it would be better if he did his thing in your mouth.” There was another priceless look from Jenny at that news. Mom spanked Jenny only five times before her mouth was covering me and then only four more times before she was licking and sucking to mom’s (and my) approval. I blasted into her mouth about ten seconds later. Mom held her head so that she wouldn’t pull away, spanked her twice when she didn’t swallow, and then finally pulled her off and pushed Jenny against the wall. It was a wonderful and thoroughly enjoyable orgasm for me. My afterglow didn’t last long at all, however. It seemed that the better the orgasm, the worse the spankings hurt. 

I was super nice to Jenny that night and even took her for ice cream. But Tuesday found us back in mom’s room. Mom made her suck me again but apparently Jenny really didn’t like it the day before. By the time she was sucking me, mom had spanked her so hard that I was starting to wonder how Jenny could stand it. In fact, mom was so tired from spanking Jenny that mine was noticeably less severe. This point was explained very loudly to Jenny. 

Wednesday was very interesting. I think mom had simply snapped and was spending all of her time working on ways to torture Jenny and me. I saw the pattern and realized that I was caught in a trap. I could get off with Jenny but only if mom thoroughly punished me afterward. To make matters worse, my pleasure was so quickly followed by pain that it was tough to really enjoy what was happening to me. Not to mention, I had been sort of enjoying the whole spanking thing before Jenny was responsible for my sexual release. There was a sexual component before but it was unfulfilled so the pre-orgasmic tension went unresolved. Now that I was resolving the tension, the spankings were really painful and punishing. Unfortunately, mom knew this and seemed to be dealing with some baggage of her own and was enjoying herself immensely at the expense of Jenny and myself. 

To be fair, Jenny was having no fun. I at least was getting an orgasm a day out of the deal. Wednesday was a good one too. We lined up in mom’s room like always except that it was getting obvious that mom was having fun. She was in her bathrobe which was peculiar since it was the middle of the afternoon. More peculiar still was the impression that she hadn’t worn any other clothes all day. It looked like she hadn’t bathed in a while as well and she sure as hell had done nothing to her hair. Mom looked at Jenny and said, “you first, dear,” in a voice that was more than just a little off. A mother that must punish her child should sound like she is at least taking on a somber responsibility. That didn’t really come through. “Oh, and Dan, I want you to just lie down on the bed.” 

Now this was a surprise and I was a little disappointed because I enjoyed immensely watching my sister get spanked. I climbed on the bed as my sister was pulled over mom’s lap. Since I was behind mom, I couldn’t see her bottom reddening and since my sister was hanging over her lap, I couldn’t watch her face as she started crying. I laid on my side and propped myself up on my elbow but the view was still disappointed so I just laid back and watched mom’s hand rise and fall and listened to my sister being brought closer and closer to tears. 

To my surprise, Jenny had just started crying when mom stopped. Jenny was even a little surprised that she didn’t paddle her. Then mom unwrapped Wednesday’s plan: “OK Jenny, let’s get to work on your brother. I want you to climb on the bed. That’s good. Now just throw your leg over him and sit on his stomach. Very good. OK, now we are going to put his penis inside you so that he can do his thing.” 

If it were at all possible, Jenny looked even more surprised at this bit of news than when she was told she was going to have to have me in her mouth. Mom kept orchestrating and got a little hands-on as well: “Lift up Jenny. A little more. That’s good now slide back a little. Good. Dan, you control yourself; I don’t want you to make a mess too soon.” Then I felt mom touch my penis and bend it upward. “Jenny, sit down nice and slow.” Jenny looked terrified but complied. I felt wet warmth on the tip as mom guided me into my sister’s vagina. “OK Jenny, I want you to sit all the way down on Dan and stay there.” Jenny did as she was told and it wasn’t until some years later that it bothered me as to why she didn’t have a hymen. I felt like I was slipping into a tube of warm butter. Jenny gripped me like a glove and it felt delightful. 

“Now Jenny I want you to reach down and hug your bother. Dan, hug her back. Now push your legs down beside Dan’s. Dan, put your legs together. Nice and tight. That’s just great. Now don’t move. You either Dan.” Jenny was lying on my chest and her legs were no longer straddling my hips but were tightly pressed against mine. I was still deeply embedded within her but we weren’t moving so I was just enjoying the tightness but had a strange need to thrust my hips. “Now don’t move,” commanded mom once more as she started spanking Jenny’s bottom again. 

Let me just say that it was amazing and I didn’t want it to end. This was my dream. Jenny was on my chest and started to jerk, writhe, and cry out almost immediately. Best yet, she did move. It wasn’t a lot but each smack caused a little squeeze around my penis. After the intensity built, Jenny started rocking her hips a little to get away from the spanks. Then mom switched to the paddle and the real fireworks began. Jenny’s tears made my chest wet and the convulsions from her crying were making the pulsing in her vagina more pronounced. Mom wasn’t spanking her long before I felt that wonderful feeling again. I hugged Jenny hard and started pumping into her. Jenny actually gasped and then started crying with a redoubled effort. For a little while at least, I was the one bucking and twitching. It was obvious to everyone that I had ‘done my thing’ but mom spanked Jenny through my afterglow. It was awesome. Jenny just cried but since I was under her, she actually was hugging me for comfort. I had just violated her and pumped her full of her brother’s semen and she was holding on to me for comfort while fire rained down on her little bottom. Her crying, little convulsions, and the impact of the paddle were just the perfect amount of stimulation for my spent member and it just drew the remaining semen out of me. 

Mom stopped and told Jenny to get off me in no uncertain terms. I was still somewhat erect but definitely softening and when Jenny pulled off me, it was like pulling a plug. Her ravaged vagina squeezed out everything I had put insider her all over me. Mom didn’t look happy about this at all. A rag was produced, mom roughly cleaned me up, and then I was over mom’s lap getting an amazingly vigorous spanking. Jenny stood behind me with cum running down the insides of her legs watching me dance on mom’s lap. 

I don’t know how to describe that spanking. One minute I had my little sister impaled on my erection and was experiencing a dream come true sort of orgasm. Then a minute later I was being spanked mercilessly. The little time mom allowed me to enjoy the afterglow and come down from my mountain top experience had betrayed me. There were no sexual feelings left in me. This just hurt and was humiliating and punishment and cruel and embarrassing and deserved and more. I could feel my sister watching this time. She was watching and enjoying her rapist being punished. For the first time, I felt like I had violated my sister. My moment of selfish enjoyment at her expense had a price and now I was paying it. I cried like a little boy not like the man that just had intercourse with a woman minutes before. I was a little boy again. I can’t describe it any better than that. 

That night, I tried to be ultra nice to Jenny. She just kept asking why I thought mom was being so mean. I made stuff up. I said that she was doing it for our own good. I talked garbage about mom being angry at dad and not having a good perspective on things. I pointed out that only two days remained and that we should just go along with things or mom might really go crazy. Then I did her homework and cleaned her room. I felt really guilty. 

Thursday couldn’t go fast enough or slow enough for me. I was addicted and terrified at the same time. Doing my sister had been the best experience ever and I hoped mom wanted us to do exactly the same thing again. At 3:25 I was undressed and ready to go. My erection was on a timer and my whole body seemed to know that good things were going to happen to me soon. My brain, on the other hand, was very worried about the consequences of another sexual experience like the day before. The best orgasms were being followed by the worst spankings. It was a real catch-22. Because I was early, I walked naked to Jenny’s room where I found her seemingly paralyzed in her room. “Come on. You have to get your clothes off.” I chided. 

Jenny stared at my rod. “I can’t do it,” she said. “I don’t want to do this anymore.” 

I started helping her undress. “Look, it will be over soon. It’ll be OK.” Then I hugged her and gave her a little kiss on the forehead. I went back to undressing her and she sort of helped. Then, with just a minute or so to spare, I gave Jenny another hug, took her by the hand, and walked to mom’s room. 

I was not instructed to lie on the bed which bothered me. In fact, I was so bothered, that I didn’t really pay attention to Jenny’s spanking. I was actually upset to see mom start paddling her bottom because that meant that Jenny wouldn’t be ‘servicing’ me during the paddling like normal. But mom stopped early and it was obvious that Jenny was either getting off easy or mom was just regrouping. 

Thursday’s plan turned out not to be too rough on Jenny. It was my turn for the serious abuse. Mom got Jenny off her lap and then told her to get on all fours on the bed. Mom stuffed a bunch of pillows under Jenny’s stomach and made her press her face right up against the headboard. Jenny was crying but I think it was from fear more than anything else. “OK Dan, get up behind her,” mom directed. I got into position and mom made Jenny spread her legs so that I had space. 

The best way to describe what happened next is to say that mom connected us. I was guided into her vagina again and then we were pressed as tightly as we could be. I was thoroughly enjoying the site and feel of Jenny’s red hot behind against my thighs and having my erection in the warm, wet, tight place again was all good. Mom produced belts at that point, told us to stay still, and then lashed our upper legs together. She used two belts for each leg: one right below my bottom and one right above the knee. We were essentially glued together and not really able to move at all. I make that point because I really wanted to start thrusting into Jenny. I just needed to move a little and everything would be great. Or better yet, move a real lot and continue her spanking with my thrusts. Now that would be fun. Mom had a different plan. 

Mom started spanking me with her hand and kept saying be still like it was a chant. I tried and succeeded. It was a hard spanking but I had my magic wand to protect me so there was nothing to fear unless, of course, my magic wand should break or something. That turned out to be a big problem. A few stinging spanks and I was starting to involuntarily move. It didn’t hurt much but I was able to thrust just a little into Jenny. It was very good. The build up was quick and the explosion violent. Mom moved to the paddle immediately after it was obvious that I had done my business. 

To anyone watching, nothing in our appearance changed. Jenny and I looked like two children before I had my orgasm and we looked like two children after as well. However, the difference to me was much more. Before my orgasm, I was a man. I had my woman (well, girl) under me as I took her. She was in distress because I was the man and she was there for my sexual gratification. Pressed against my stomach was the symbol of her beaten ass representing how submissive she was. She had been warmed for the taking because we men who conquer women like their bottoms red. My hands held her at her hips. Her head bumped the headboard occasionally when we moved together but I didn’t care because this wasn’t for her pleasure; it was for mine. Oh, and the gentle pats on my own posterior encouraged my manhood to swell within her cavern in preparation for the explosion. 

But, like I said, the orgasm was intense but quick. There was little buildup for me. I was the center of attention and I was on top of my crying sister. That was enough for me. Then it was over and the little boy was back. The little boy didn’t like being spanked. The little boy wanted it over. The little boy was ashamed and confused. The little boy began to cry. The little boy’s mother was having way too much fun. The spanking just got worse. 

Now, I’m not sure what happened exactly but something happened to my sister during the second half of our coupling that I am uncertain about. As I started to experience real distress, my erection began to fade and I just squirmed around behind her. I’m not sure, but I think she liked it. She wasn’t crying anymore, that was for sure. Her hands were grabbing at the sheets and she seemed to be pushing back at me. I didn’t like that because that was pushing me into mom so I pushed back. Now I had other things on my mind, but I think that I remember her vagina pulsing around me like when a woman climaxes. 

It was my turn to be the one spanked to a blubbering mess of snot, drool, and tears. Mom finally quit and took our bonds off. The mess between Jenny and I was worse this time. Our hairless privates were covered with sticky white stuff. It was truly obscene to see my pale penis covered in the stuff that comes out of a man. In fact, it was hard to believe that a man capable of producing that fluid was even in the room. When erect, my penis was almost red in places but in its flaccid state was completely anemic. Jenny was more colorful maybe because she was actually sexually excited for the first time in our little adventure. Still, there was no way that anyone would have mistaken her little pre-teen vagina as ready for sex. Yet there it was coated with semen. 

Mom kicked us out and I walked back to my room still crying. Jenny was the one comforting me this time. 

Friday was the last one. By now, mom was just a monster that lived in the bedroom at the end of the hall. Jenny and I met in the hallway this time. Wordlessly we hugged each other tight. The feeling of that little girl hugging me was precious. As my erection rested against her stomach it involuntarily pulsed its love for her. For whatever reason, Jenny tensed up when that happened. 

Jenny went over mom’s lap first but before the spanking started, mom parted Jenny cheeks. Then, using a tube of something I had never seen before, she coated her middle finger with shiny gel like stuff and slowly stuck her finger into Jenny’s bottom hole. Jenny made all sorts of uncomfortable noises. Mom pulled out her finger, wiped it off, and then started spanking. The spanking was about the same as usual. She moved to the paddle after crying started and stopped when Jenny reached a point where the kicking stopped but the blubbering was in full force. Jenny started getting up and mom stopped her. 

“You are such a problem child. Your brother needs to do his business or the spankings don’t work. I needed you to just put your brother in your mouth, but no, you wouldn’t do that. Then I let you fuck him and the first time you make a mess all over everything by squeezing his sperm out. So, we did it differently yesterday and you decide to like it. Young lady, this is a punishment. I don’t need you liking anything. So, today let’s see if we can get the job done a different way. Dan, get over her and put your dick into your sister’s ass-hole.” 

Well, you’ve probably guessed that I don’t use such crass language which shocked me almost as much as the request itself. I was thinking with the little head and the little head thought that maybe happiness could be found between my sisters crimson cheeks. It took about a minute to mate my penis with my sister’s bottom hole. Mom had to guide me in and Jenny was very unhappy and very uncooperative. Once it was done, I was laying on top of Jenny buried to my testicles in her bottom. It was very tight probably because that is the nature of anal sex but also because Jenny was as stiff as board. 

Mom started spanking me and the magic of the situation was just as intense. I loved being the center of attention. Below me was my little sister defiled in the most degrading way. Above me was mother’s guiding, loving, caring, disciplining hand gently pumping my penis full of semen to shoot into the receptacle below me. She encouraged me. She filled me. 

When I ejaculated, it came out with such force that it almost hurt. Jenny’s little bottom was squeezing me so tight that at first it felt like it wasn’t going to be able to squirt. The pressure built as well as that wonderful feeling and then suddenly it was pouring out. Jenny squealed in discomfort and humiliation and mom—who somehow knew—changed to the paddle. 

The last spanking that week followed a terrific orgasm and, as such, was a testament to serious bottom bruising. I shrank fast inside of Jenny probably because she was squeezing me so hard. Eventually I was small enough that a squeeze from Jenny was all it took to expel me. 

Jenny and I left mom’s room that Friday afternoon not knowing where to go next. It wasn’t the end of the punishments; that was for sure. Mom emerged from seclusion on Wednesday of the next week to announce that we would never see our father again. They were getting a divorce. She was wrong, of course. We saw him frequently and he was pretty stable. Mom lost it. We were disciplined for everything and anything. Mom always made us engage in some sexual activity and then beat us mercilessly. Jenny and I only had each other and, since sex wasn’t taboo anymore, we found comfort in each other’s arms. Sometimes it was loving, gentle, and caring the way Jenny liked it. More often it was violent, degrading, and painful the way I liked it. 

Many of these stories turn out great with the author talking about how their family’s deviant sexual behavior made them bigger, better, and faster as adults. Maybe my story is extreme, but Jenny and I are as dysfunctional as any two people can be. We ended up having mom locked up because her discipline methods became life threatening. Dad, who abandoned us to that monster in the first place, abandoned us again. We ended up in foster care though we did get money from him as well as college educations. Apparently that was a deal the lawyers dropped in on our behalf some time along the way. I think he was too scared of us locking him up as well. He kept his distance and sent checks. 

Jenny and I are both middle aged adults now. We are both single. We still only have each other.