One Boy's Journey -- Part 2

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

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

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

The Second Time 

For a couple days, sissy and I weren’t home alone at the same time. Then, on a hot day about a week later, mom wanted to go visit her crazy friend and do some shopping.  We got a short list of chores, instructions for lunch and general behavior, et cetera and then she was gone.  Sissy just smiled and said “You have some chores to do, don’t you.” 

“What if I don’t want to do the chores?” I asked as snotty as possible. 

“Then I’ll spank your bare bottom until you do them.” 

“OK, I’ll do them,” I said again as sarcastically and snotty as possible.  I headed off to mow the lawn which, obviously, being outside and everything didn’t lend itself to our little charade. 

It took a long time and I didn’t dare screw it up but it made me all sweaty and gross so I was angling for a shower when I came back into the house.  “I have to take a shower, I think.  I’m all gross.” 

“That’s good.  You do that but don’t bother putting your clothes on afterward.  I decided I didn’t like your attitude and I think you should get a spanking for being so mean to me.” 

Apparently she wasn’t even going to wait for me to misbehave again. 

I wanted it so bad but I also wanted to do the dance a little.  “I’m sorry.  Please don’t spank me hard.  I’ll be good,” I pleaded. 

“Too late for that.  You should have thought about how a spanking would feel before being mean to me,” she retorted. 

I just sniffled an “OK” and headed to the bathroom.  The shower was good but I was rock hard and had been ever since I found out mom was going to be out for the day.  The bathroom window was open a little which, though it didn’t let anyone see in, I could see and hear the children in the park across the street.  As I was toweling off, there was a ruckus where one little kid took a toy from another and the mother of the offending child marched over to him, and spanked him a couple times before giving the toy back to the little kid that had been playing with it. 

This sort of thing happens all the time but as I watched the scene unfold, I realized that I was going to be treated just like that little boy in just a couple minutes.  Then, to my delight, the kid misbehaved again by throwing sand at the kid who had the toy. The mother marched back over but this time grabbed the kid and brought him back to the bench she had been sitting on, sat down, yanked his pants down, threw him over her lap, and started rapidly spanking the little boy while apologizing profusely to the mother of the victim.  None of that was very sexy or anything.  What got my attention was that the scene got everyone else’s attention including the kids my age and older walking around the park.  Everyone watched as this little boy was punished.  Everyone knew what a spanking sounded like.  Maybe everyone even knew what it felt like to be spanked.  In a couple minutes, I was going to be spanked and the sound of a hand or wood against young butt cheeks would be unmistakable to everyone in earshot.  I was going to be spanked and someone besides my sister and I might know it was happening. 

A knock on the door caused me to jump.  “What are you doing in there?” then she tried the knob which was locked.  “Open this door right now,” she demanded.

I unlocked the door and covered myself with the towel for when she came in.  “Hang that towel up.  It’s time for your spanking.”  I unwrapped the towel and showed my erect sex organ to my sister then turned around and presented her with my naughty bottom as I hung up the towel. 

“I’m going to spank you first for being so mean to me this morning and then we will see how well you do the rest of your chores.” 

I turned around and her eyes were glued to my erect penis.  It was different this time.  She knew it could do something and it was like she was waiting for it to happen.  The thing was that she was right.  I wanted to get a spanking but I also really wanted to make the stuff come out.  I didn’t want to just stand there and squirt though.  No one had ever seen me do that and I bet I looked pretty funny. 

“I see your wee-wee is all hard again.  Is that stuff going to come out again?” she genuinely asked. 

I didn’t want to talk about it but I said “Yeah, it might,” real softly. 

“Do you want it to come out now?” she asked.  

“No, not yet,” I almost whispered. 

“I want to see it happen,” she declared, “but now I’m going to spank your bottom.  Follow me.” 

Never underestimate the evil of a young girl.  We walked all the way out to the kitchen.  The whole house was opened up to let in the beautiful day outside.  Drapes were open and windows were open.  Should anyone look, they would have seen my skinny naked frame still a little wet from my shower pass from window to window as I followed my sister to the kitchen. 

The kitchen window to the front of the house was open and facing the backyard, the family room drapes were open and windows open.  It was very nice with a little breeze but you could hear the sounds of the park and the street clearly from the front of the house and the kids playing in a yard a couple houses down through the back.  She pulled out a chair and patted her lap.  “Please, not here,” I whined. 

“Why not?” she asked. 

 “Everyone will hear,” I said a little whiny. 

She thought for a second and then said, “that is part of your punishment.  You’re just lucky they can’t see you too.”

This just made me really nervous. If this was just a punishment for me, then maybe this would be different.  I mean, that little boy in the park was just feeling the embarrassment of being spanked in front of people because his bottom was bare and burning.  For me, I was sexually aroused by my impending spanking.  If someone heard me or saw me, I wouldn’t be caught with just my pants down, but with my pants down and penis out.

“Why do we have to spank here?” I whined some more. 

“Because there are so many good things to spank you with in the kitchen.  I want to try out a bunch of them and I didn’t want to make you run naked through the house every time I wanted to try out a different spoon or whatever.  Besides, it doesn’t matter; this is just where you are going to get your first spanking today.  I bet you’ll get a spanking in every room in the house before mom comes home.  Where do you want me to spank you?” 

I thought for a second and then said quietly “In my bedroom or the bathroom, I guess.” I was starting to get nervous.  It sounded like my sister was planning on really spanking me today. What if it hurt a lot?  Was she going to make me cry?  What would that be like?  What if someone didn’t just hear my spanking but heard me crying too? 

“OK, I promise to spank you extra hard in your bedroom and in the bathroom.  Happy now?” she asked. 

These thoughts made me dread the spanking, made me want to get it over with quickly, and were turning me on at the same time.  “I’m sorry.  I’ll be good,” I said without thinking. 

My sister giggled.  “We’ll see.  I’m going to make your bottom bright red today.  I think that might take a little time.  I’m just going to spank you with my hand first.  Come on.  Over my knee.  We have a lot of spanking to do today.  We have to get started,” she said like she was talking to a classroom of students about the day’s assignments. 

The fight was gone from me.  It wasn’t me my sister was going to spank; it was just my bottom.  She had the goal of making it bright red and maybe making the owner cry and have a messy orgasm.  It was all about results and not my needs. 

I walked over to her and bent over her lap.  Only my penis didn’t seem worried.  He was still hard and tinged angry reds and blues.  The poor guy was totally confused.  Naked with a woman (OK, a girl and my sister but still a person with a vagina) in the room, I might have been ready for sex.  In a different place and time, this might be how my first coupling would start: a young woman beaconing me to come to her, to assume a position, to place my naked form on her naked form, and to put my erect manhood into her warm, waiting, and receptive vagina. 

I “mounted” my sister but she was clothed though not with much: just a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.  Our bodies were perpendicular rather than parallel like they were supposed to be.  I was bent over with my head almost touching the floor on one side and my toes touching on the other.  Her right thigh just barely touched my scrotum, her left thigh was under my stomach, and my penis hung free between her legs just inches—and two layers of fabric—from her vagina.  Instead of the woman being open, expose and ready to be violated by the man, I was exposed presenting my bottom to her.  I realized that if I was going to have sex, I would probably take a shower first so that I was as clean as possible for my lover. 

I groaned as all these thoughts dawned on me.

“What’s wrong?  Aren’t you comfortable?” she asked a little concerned that I hurt myself and that apparently she had nothing to do with it. 

“Um, I’m OK.  I was just, ah, thinking…” I trailed off. 

There was a sudden slap on my bottom. 

“What were you thinking about?” she asked with another slap. 

I stayed silent.  Do you tell your little sister that you were thinking about how her spanking you reminded you of what it would be like to have sex?  That seemed dangerous and wrong. 

“Come on.  You can tell me.”  She spanked me a couple more time.  They didn’t hurt, at least not yet, so I stayed quiet because I literally couldn’t think of anything to say. In normal circumstances maybe I could have convincingly lied to her but the parallel between sex and spanking overwhelmed every other thought in my brain. I was paralyzed. 

“Do I have to spank it out of you?”  A couple more spanks.  “OK, have it your way,” she said resignedly and started spanking with vigor. 

It was a perfect spanking for me except that my penis had nothing to rub against.  She was in control but her hand only stung a little bit.  I was in the position, not in control, naked, excited, and getting a spanking I could totally handle.  In the back of my head, I remembered the bee sting of the paddle from last time and the promise of why we were in the kitchen in the first place, but for the moment, her little hand on my cheeks was exquisite: a little heat and just a little sting.  I could feel my bottom jiggle and each delicate impact seemed to pump more blood into my engorged penis.  It throbbed almost in time to the staccato tempo of her alternated striking of my cheeks.  She seemed to be covering my whole bottom and I imagined it turning bright red. 

She stopped abruptly.  “My hand is going to start to hurt.  Let’s see what we have in the kitchen to spank you with.  Hmmm.  OK, get up and go get me a wooden spoon from the drawer.” 

I got up awkwardly and we both got to look at a side effect of her ministration.  Drops of pre-cum were escaping from my penis and as I stood up, one rolled lewdly down the underside of my penis. 

“What’s that?” she asked. 

I didn’t want to answer but I wasn’t in a position to hide the fact right that instant.  “Um, that is some stuff that comes out before the sperm does.  It’s all slippery and is supposed to make it, um, easier to, you know, have sex,” I said quietly. 

“Oh, I see,” she said suddenly very reverently.  There was a moment of awkward silence as she watched the drop come to rest on my testicle sac.  “Well, go get a spanking spoon,” she chided.  I realized that everything was going to be a spanking-this or a spanking-that. 

I walked over to the drawer and took a little look out the window to see if there was a crowd yet and was relieved that it appeared round one had gone unnoticed.  There were three spoons in the drawer.  The small one was too little.  The medium one looked like it would do the trick because it was long enough but still very light.  The big one looked menacing compared to the other two.  I took out the medium one and hoped she wouldn’t remember the big one. 

I turned around and showed it to her.  “Yes, that’s fine.  We’ll do the big one later.  OK, back over.” 

I handed it to her and climbed back into position.  She started right away for about ten quick swats that stung more but were not unbearable.  Since the spoon wasn’t heavy and only a couple inches wide and maybe three inches long, it created little spots of sting that dissipated quickly.  Each one hurt a little but then it was gone.  It was like I was a being poked to do something or move in some way.  It was just a little jolt saying “move like this” or “go faster” or “move over there”.  I imagined that my lover would use a spoon like this to make me go faster during intercourse.  Her passion and desire would be such that she would use something like this spoon to encourage me to pound her faster and harder. 

I was starting to breathe a little harder but it wasn’t from the light spanking my sister was delivering but because of the fantasy world in my head.  She stopped abruptly and asked “I don’t suppose you’re ready to tell me what you were thinking about yet, are you?” 

I just shook my head as I realized that the sexual fantasy of the moment was even more depraved. 

“This spoon is too light and I’m going to break it on your butt if I hit any harder.  Let’s try something else.  Get up and go get me the cookie spatula.” 

Again, I awkwardly climbed off her lap and we were again surprised to see the changes the spoon spanking had created.  My erection was at the top of its game still but so much pre-cum was being pumped out that there were actually drops on the floor.  I couldn’t help thinking that it was going to waste this way. 

I started searching for the cookie spatula and found it in the third drawer I checked.  This device didn’t really work all that well but the idea was that it was a tool for getting cookies off a pan.  The handle was about a foot long and the end was about five inches round—like a cookie.  Though it was thick in the middle, all the edges tapered so that it would slide under the cookie easily.  The flaw in the design was that it was nearly straight and wood so it wasn’t really ergonomically designed for its intended task.  However, as a spanking implement, it had some real promise. 

I walked back to my tormentor, handed the implement to her, and watched her weigh it appreciatively.  “Yes, I think this will work well,” was her ruling.  “Now, let’s see what was on your mind.  Come on.  Back over you go.  I think this might get your attention.  Might get the attention of the neighbors by the feel of it,” she grinned. 

I admit I was worried and it was starting to seem like a good idea to just tell her all my depraved ideas.  I crawled back over her lap knowing I was going to lose this battle of wills.  There was a moment of silence after I got situated when the world seemed very loud and close by.  The kids across the street playing, the bicycles on the street, and games in backyard of the house down the street, everything seemed close by and normal compared to my predicament.  She tapped the spatula against my right cheek, measuring it, aiming, tapping.  Kids on bikes were coming down the street.  I could hear them approaching.  The tapping stopped and the cool wood left my bottom.  Then, the unmistakable sound of wood on butt cheek and a whole new level of pain radiated from my bottom.  It burned and stung and didn’t disappear right away at all.  I squirmed in discomfort. 

“Hold still,” she said coldly.  Then there was tapping on my left cheek.  I whined a little when the tapping stopped and the spatula was removed.  Then, a crack that echoed off the hard surfaces of the kitchen and I said “oooo” without even thinking about it. 

She changed back to my right cheek and tapped a couple times.  The quiet gave me a chance to listen for the bikes which I thought I heard but just as I was focusing, she spanked me again and brought an involuntary ‘oh’ from my lips.  Taps on the left cheek and then another crack.  She was picking up speed. 

I expected taps on the right, but there were none: just an explosive crack. Then the left and she started to find her rhythm.  Clearly she had no idea how much this hurt and the pain was totally unexpected for me.  I had no idea a spanking hurt so much. No wonder children cried when spanked.  And speaking of crying, that was going to become a real possibility for me if I didn’t give her what she wanted.  

“Stop, stop,” I gasped.  But she didn’t. 

“Are you going to tell me everything?” she demanded. 

I was squirming and writhing about trying to avoid the spanks and the pain was making it hard to think.  So I said “please stop” but when the words left my mouth they sounded more desperate than I thought they would.  It sounded like I was almost crying. 

“If you tell me everything I’ll stop.  Are you going to be a good boy and tell me what I want to know?” she asked again while not even slowing her assault on my poor bottom. 

The answer was ‘yes’.  I just had to say ‘yes’.  “Yes, please stop, yes, ow ow ow, oooo” I pleaded and then, as a final act of resignation, I started to actually cry a little. 

She stopped.  “Promise?” she asked.  I made the mistake of not answering right away.  I didn’t mean to but it just hurt so bad it was hard to concentrate.  Suddenly, she started again. 

“Yes, yes, I promise,” I said too loudly. 

“OK, let’s hear it” 

“Um, I um, was thinking about how getting a spanking was like having sex,” I almost whispered.

“Go on.” 

“OK, so, like, when people have sex they are naked and stuff.  Well, I’m naked for a spanking.  And when a boy is going to have sex, his penis is hard and that stuff that makes it all slippery leaks out and that was happening to me.  And then when people, you know, have sex, they have to get in position but it is usually the girl that gets put into a position so that the boy can put his penis into her.  She has to be like, all open and exposed so that he can put it in and move around.  But when you are going to spank me, I’m put into a position so that my behind is, like, you know open and exposed so that you can, um, put the spanks on it easily.” 

I paused hoping that she would accept what I gave. 

“I think there is more,” she said after when I didn’t immediately continue.  “I’ll just spank you some more to jog your memory.” 

Just two cracks landed before I tried to stop her. “No, no, I’ll tell more. I’m sorry.” I pleaded.  She got about ten in and reduced me again to tears before she stopped. 

“OK, go on,” she said with a little more interest in her voice. 

I was sobbing a little but I struggled on: “So, um, when I go over your lap like this, it is sort of like the position that the boy and girl are in when they have sex.  Like, my penis is really close to your, you know, place.  And my penis was all hard and ready for sex and it was so close to where it wanted to be that if you weren’t wearing your shorts, it could almost reach and everything would be OK but instead he’s just hanging there ready to do the sex thing but can’t.  He’s so close.  Like, no other time in my life have I been naked with a girl but instead of having sex like I want to—like my penis wants to—instead I get spanked like a bad little boy.” 

Clearly, I’ve said too much.  But I had to.  My bottom was still stinging.  I was all out of fight. 

“So, you want to have sex with me?” she asked sort of incredulously. 

“No, well, not with you.  I mean, I want to have sex sort of and like it doesn’t matter with who or how.”

“How?  What do mean by that?” 

Through this whole conversation, I was draped over here lap so she never saw that for a couple minutes during the hardest part of the spanking, my erection actually abated.  But now, as I started describing my deepest desires, he was again standing at attention and straining for release.  Additionally, as the sting was subsided, it was slowly being replaced by the maddening tingle.

“I, well, there is sex, you know, where boy puts his penis in the girls vagina until the sperm comes out but there are other sex things.  Like, if the girl rubs the boy’s penis for him until the stuff comes out it is called a hand job.  Or if she puts it in her mouth it is called a blow job.  He can even put it in her butt I’ve heard,” I ventured.  Really, I was so scared of being spanked again, I would have told her anything. 

She paused a second like she was thinking and then finally said, “But why do want me to spank you?” 

Well, that certainly was the question and I didn’t have a great answer for it.  “I’m not sure.  It sure hurts but I like that I’m naked and that a girl—you—pays attention to me.  I like that you make the rules.  Sometimes, like when you spank me with your hand or that spoon it actually feels sort of good.  And if my penis is touching something, I can rub against it when you spank me and it feels really good.” 

“My legs are getting tired.  You’re getting heavy.  You better get up.” 

I got up and she saw the mess she made of me.  My face clearly showed that I had been crying and though I hadn’t been hard the whole time, I was again and my pre-cum had dripped onto the floor so many times that there was a little puddle. 

“You better clean that up,” she said pointed at my drippings and giggling. 

I got a paper towel from by the sink and took a quick peek out the window to be sure no one was out there listening. To my relief, I didn’t see anyone.  I wondered if anyone heard the spanking.  It sure seemed loud to me.  What if I was walking down the street and heard that sound?  What would I think?  My erection bobbed a little as I considered the possibilities. 

I got the paper towel and knelt before my sister, my tormentor, and cleaned up my wasted pre-cum.  Again, I was so close to her sex.  All the pain of the spanking was forgotten and now I just wanted to have sex again. 

Suddenly it dawned on me that we had chores to do and though I would like to spend the whole day playing spanking games, we needed to get the jobs done. 

“Shouldn’t I do some chores?” I asked. 

“Actually, I did them all while you were mowing the lawn,” she replied with a twinkle.  “I wanted to make sure that I had plenty of time to spank your butt so I did all the chores.” 

“Oh” was all I could say. 

“You still have to make me lunch,” she said.  “But, I want to do one more thing before then. I want to see your sperm come out of your penis first.” 

“You want to see it?” I asked a little confused. 

“Yeah, I want to see what it looks like when that happens.” 

“I’m, um, not sure…” and then I trailed off. 

“You are being so difficult today.  I told you what to do and you won’t do it.  This is twice today and after the first time you got a super hard spanking.  Do you need another one?  Maybe it’s time to try out that big spoon?” 

“No, no, I’ll do it.  I’m sorry.  I’ll do it right now.  Should I just rub myself?” I asked.  Truth was I just wasn’t sure what she wanted to see. 

“Yup” she chirped. 

“Just standing here in the kitchen like this?” I asked again. 

“Well, how do you normally do it?” 

“I, um, sometimes do it standing but other times I’ll be lying in bed or on the floor.” I replied. 

“Hmmm, lay down on the floor right here and do it,” she ordered. 

I got down on the cool tile floor.  This was apparently as close to sex with a girl as I was going to get.  My sister was going to watch me masturbate on my kitchen floor after spanking me to tears.  Her eyes were glued to my penis which was coating itself with pre-cum.  I finally touched myself and was surprised at how slick the underside was.  My fingers moved frictionless along the shaft. The cool of the floor soothed my burning rump and the feel of stimulation on my penis was immediately pleasurable.  I spread the slickness around coating the whole shaft and even the head.  I was so slick, I could have fit into the tiniest of openings. 

But, I wasn’t going to last long. There was a moment of panic when I realized that I had no tissues ready but I couldn’t have stopped anyway and I didn’t want to upset my sadistic sister with another interruption.  I closed my eyes and quickened my pace for a couple seconds until I felt the point-of-no-return approach.  Then I slowed and let the orgasm creep up on me.  It was a wonderful leg shaking, moaning, and draining experience.  I lost control and arched my back and tilted back my head.  I felt a couple spurts leave my penis but most of my spend just oozed out like normal.  Then I collapsed on the floor with a sigh. 

It wasn’t long at all before I regretted what just happened, maybe just seconds.  I opened my eyes secretly hoping that my sister wasn’t still there but she was and had even moved closer so that she could see the action.

“Wow, that was cool!” she said.  “Are you OK?” 

“Yeah” I said softly. 

“Was it good?” 

I couldn’t lie being that it was really good.  Now that the craving was gone, I can’t figure out why I thought it was a good idea to masturbate in front of my sister but at the time, it seemed like a genius move. “Yes, it was very good.  It felt good.” 

“Even after your spanking?” she pressed. 

“Um, actually, because of the spanking, I think,” I said truthfully.  “Can I get cleaned up?” 

“You’re a mess,” she didn’t answer.  “You got it all over you.  It was cool when it first came out because the first bit sort of shot out but then the rest just made a puddle,” she babbled. 

“It was a lot this time,” I agreed growing increasingly uncomfortable talking about my most recent sexual experience. 

“And now your wee-wee is getting all small like a baby’s!” she said truthfully again. 

I didn’t know what to say but I wanted to get up, clean up, and just not be the center of attention any more.  I thought maybe I could give her some information and she would let me go but my tone was less than patient: “After the stuff comes out, I don’t want sex anymore for a little while and my penis gets soft while more of the white stuff gets made, I think.  Once some more is ready, then it gets hard again and makes me start thinking about sex again.” 

“How long does that take?” 

“I don’t know.  About fifteen minutes, I guess.  Can I get cleaned up now?” I asked with a little edge in my voice. 

“Gosh, what’s the big deal?  There isn’t that much on you,” she said more in her sadistic sister character. 

I quickly tried to recover: “Sorry, it’s just that it is all sticky and I guess I’m just a little embarrassed right now.  Like, if anyone saw me like this, they would know what I just did,” I explained.  “If I had real sex, you know, then all this stuff would be in or on a girl and that would be OK because that is sort of how it is supposed to be but I just made my stuff come out all by myself and if someone saw me they would know that.” 

“So, you like it but you don’t like it?  Brother, you are really confused,” she thought for a second.  “No, don’t clean up.  I want your sticky stuff on you when you get your afternoon spankings.”

Strangely and unfortunately, my penis jumped a little when she said this.  Humiliation was becoming a big turn on for me and the thought of walking around covered in my own semen sounded delightfully humiliating and embarrassing. 

“Oh, please, no.  Don’t spank my bottom anymore.  I’ll be good,” I whined.  It was clearly an act and she knew it. 

“I’m going to not only spank you more, but I’m going to spank you in every room in this house and I’m going make more of the sticky stuff come out.  You’ve been a bad boy.  Now, I want lunch.  Get up and make me lunch.  NOW!” she commanded.