Cold Walk Home

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

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

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

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

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

Christmas Tradition

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 Naughty Chair

This is another post that is not going to be for everyone. Lots of dick pics and frankly, not very flattering ones at that. That is sort of the point, actually. As I write this, I still haven't pushed the Publish button and I not certain I will ever muster the courage to do so. I am not sure I am brave enough to post so many admittedly unflattering pictures of my most private parts.

The story is a mix of truth and fiction. The pictures are of me but staged in a re-enactment. I don't know why I feel it is necessary to mention except that I have been accused of "enhancing" reality to better match my fantasies.

Truth is it is always better in our heads no matter what we are recalling, writing about, or whatever. If we are the hero of the story, this is just how it is.

One last note: the pictures are from a couple different "photo shoots" as will be evident from my public hair. I wish I had the body of pre-pubescent boy complete with the body hair. Alas, I am not and have neither so I keep searching for what looks best on what I've got. 

The Game

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

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

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

One Boy's Journey -- Part 8

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

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

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

One Boy's Journey -- Part 7

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

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

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

One Boy's Journey -- Part 4

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

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

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

My New Mommy

I walked in the door and as soon as we could, I was up against the wall getting spanked through my pants with the thinnest and stingiest paddle. I used to wear jeans but they were too thick. This was just a warm-up spanking so that we could do the real thing as soon as the scene began. Her real spankings were always on the bare and always were very hard. It is essential to have a little warm-up or I just can't take too much. 

Once that was over, we could get down to why I was visiting my 'mommy'. "OK, baby, take off your clothes and tell mommy why you are getting a big spanking tonight," she commanded. I'm white and in my late forties. She is black and in her early twenties. Though I pay this nice young lady to pretend to be my mommy sometimes, she has admitted to enjoying our little games and has confessed that she has masturbated or booty-called her boyfriend after our sessions. Lately she has worn more provocative clothing when I come over and taken to shedding clothing as the night goes on claiming that it she is hot, constricted, or worried about something getting ruined. I've seen her in just a bra and panties but never anything less.

Tonight she was dressed in a simple loose and flowing lilac dress that reached almost to her knees. She was clearly not wearing a bra but there was nothing immodest about it and, in fact, she looked modest, chaste and even motherly. Her large but youthfully gravity-defying breasts swayed gently beneath the thin fabric. The dress hugged her young but full lines smoothly. She is not a small woman but not overweight either. Her very dark skin under the light lilac was beautiful and smooth and she wore her hair in a severe business bun. 

I peeled off my shirt and pulled down my pants and underwear revealing my hairless body and hard little penis to her. I left my pants around my ankles for the moment while I explained, "I was playing with a neighbor girl. We were playing mommy and daddy." The story I was about to tell hadn't really happened but was based on something that had happened decades ago. 

"Wait," she interrupted. "Is this neighbor girl younger than you?" 

"Yes," I whispered knowing that mommy was about to figure out how super naughty I was pretending to be. So far, the story was pretty accurate to what had actually happened. She was younger by a couple years but like most girls at that age, she was more mature. 

"How much younger?" she pressed. 

"She is in fourth grade." We pretend that I am in sixth and that she is not actually half my age but more than twice my age. The real story was more an eighth and sixth situation. 

"I do not like where this is going. What were you doing?" she asked sternly. This unfortunately made my penis bob a little. 

"We were pretending to make a baby," I said softly. She just made the 'go on' motion with her hand. "She had taken off her panties and pulled up her dress and I had pulled down my pants and underpants. I was laying on top of her rubbing my pee-pee against her tickle when her mom caught us." This was what I hoped had happened in real life but we didn't get nearly that far. 

Mommy thought for a second. "Did you put your pee-pee in her tickle?" she asked. 

"No," I paused, "we were just rubbing but..." I trailed off. She just looked at me sternly. "It went in accidentally just a little." Then quickly, "she didn't like that and told me to take it out but she was a little loud and her mommy heard, I think." 

"Did you make squirties on her tickle?" mommy asked angrily. Then, before I could answer added, "Or in her tickle, heaven forbid." 

"No!" I said quickly and then, "her mom caught us too quickly." I realized before she said anything what I had just done: clearly I had intended to squirt all over this little girl. 

"Oh my goodness," she said with disgust. "Did she know that you were going to do that?" 

I softly said, "probably." 

"Why 'probably'?" she pressed. 

I was quiet for a second and then offered, "well, we didn't really talk about it but I thought she would know what happens. She's seen me squirt before." Something about having pants around your ankles makes you just say way too much. Or maybe it was all the blood in my penis instead of my brain. 

"She has!", mommy said with a gasp. "When did that happen?" 

"Um, a couple days ago," I offered. She seemed to want more and, well, I was in pretty deep. "We were playing doctor and she was fixing my pee-pee. Cindy was touching me and asking if that was making me feel better and I said it was. Then it just happened and went all over my tummy. She thought it was neat and wasn't mad at all." I quickly explained like it mattered that talking a pre-teen into giving me a satisfying hand job that hadn't totally grossed her out was somehow going to make this better. It didn't. 

Reality check: all different girls and different times. Lots of doctor happened over the years. I ejaculated a couple times during the 'sex play' years and usually it freaked me out more than anything or anyone else. I realize now that what I was playing with was risky and that if things had gone a little further, well, I might have done something really awful. It is that sense that I was always lucky--never smart--that makes me feel so guilty that I crave this punishment. Each time I visit my new mommy, I share another facet of the truth. Indeed, this isn't what happened but what I wish had happened. This story and others like it continue to fuel my masturbation sessions (when I'm not fantasizing about spanking). 

"What did her mother do when she caught you?" mommy asked. 

"She was real mad. I got up and we both tried to cover up our parts but she knew what we were doing. She said that she would tell my mommy what I had done if I didn't and then she gave Cindy a spanking while I was still there. I didn't know what to do so I just pulled up my pants and watched Cindy get spanked. 

"Cindy's mom doesn't spank as hard as you," I added, "but Cindy was really crying." I thought maybe it would make it less bad if I compared my mommy's spanking ability favorably to Cindy's mother's. That naughtiness was probably not going to go unnoticed, however. By the way, I was never caught though it was close a couple times and I am sure one time the adult totally knew what was going on but didn't want the hassle of dealing with us, thought it was normal, or didn't care. 

"Well, you certainly have earned a real bottom blistering tonight. Let's get a look at you, little boy. Take those pants off and come over here," she said as she moved to the wooden chair that she puts in the middle of the room for spanking. I kicked off my pants and then thought it might go better for me if I put them neatly someplace but, well, nothing really worked. I tried. Then I walked stark naked across to the room to the woman that was going to make the next hour or two extremely painful and humiliating. 

She started right in talking to me like I was a little naughty boy. "Remember the rules: if you have to make pee-pees or poopies, just tell me and I'll take you to the potty. No making squirties without permission either. I will use the hairbrush on your bottom if you do. You have to be polite to me at all times or you will get the punishment paddle on that little bottom of yours. 

"Now, we are going to spank you a lot tonight for doing sexy things to the that innocent little girl and making her have to get a spanking. Then, since you want to make squirties so bad, I am going to spank it right out of you. We'll do that later after your bottom is super ouchy. That will make you learn that you need to be older before you start doing sexy things with girls." 

She patted her thigh like I think she would when it was time to go over her lap and I felt my penis involuntarily pulse probably pushing out a little more pre-cum. No matter how many times I get spanked, it always surprises me that I create so much pre-cum that clearly goes to waste. I walked to her feeling the wetness at the tip of my penis feel uncomfortably cool. 

"He is a cute little guy," she said taking me in hand. 

"Oh, be careful; he really wants to squirt bad. He keeps leaking the slippery stuff. That happens before the nice squirties come out," I said trying to sound like a naive little boy. 

"Oh yes, I see you are leaking. Poor baby," she cooed. Her cool hand felt electric on my erection though she avoided touching me where I would be most stimulated. Instead, she felt around the base and stroked the top like she was petting a kitten. With her other hand, she caressed and gently squeezed my scrotum that was holding my testicles nice and tight just like when I am about to cum. "It is like he is crying already. Soon you both will get to cry together. Won't that be nice?" she asked hypothetically. 

I groaned from the faint stimulation and frustration it produced. "That makes your little pee-pee feel good I bet." Then she leaned in close so that her face was just inches from my throbbing erection and taunted, "yeah, this wittle-wittle teenie weenie pee-pee thinks it is a big boy cock. Oh no your not, no your not." She pursed her lips and raised her voice like she was talking to a baby, "look how cute you are. All hard and ready to squirt but you are so little. Little pee-pees can't cum like big penises. Oh no they can't." 

He just bobbed inches in front of her mouth. I was just a few strokes from orgasm and wanted nothing more than to cover her face with my cum. My hands were clenched tight at my sides. 

Looking up at me, she said, "I think he is about ready to pop." I nodded and then she returned to speaking directly to my little guy, "is baby ready to make? Does little baby want to have his little squirty? Of course he does but we can't have that. Nope. This little guy is just going to have to wait." Then, dangerously, she did actually kiss my penis right on the tip but above my slit. "Bye bye for now. 

"OK, turn around and let's make sure you are all clean," she commanded switching gears abruptly. I turned and faced away from her. I knew what to do before she asked but waited anyway. "Bend over," she said annoyed that I hadn't already. Hoping I was squeaky clean, I bent over as far as I could and then felt her pry apart my cheeks even further. The cool air on my pucker was followed unexpectedly by one of her fingers that poked and prodded the area. Then it was gone and when it came back it was wet. She pushed right into me. "Relax," she commanded, "I know what I'm doing." 

It is really hard to relax when anyone unexpectedly intrudes but I figured that it would be OK if I stayed in character; this would be especially difficult for a twelve year old boy passing through puberty. I whined a soft and elongated 'no' in what I thought would be an appropriate high pitch. She just shushed me and probed deeper eventually finding what I knew was my prostate and giving it a nice massage. 

"I have to be sure you are clean inside and out. This will help fill you up and make your squirt bigger too. I know this isn't very nice but it will be nice to make a big squirt later, won't it?" I just mewed because my character would and because I knew there was likely a big penalty to pay for making a big mess. 

She spent less than a minute probing me, extracted her finger and sent me to fetch her a wet washcloth. It was curiously uncomfortable walking after having been diddled and it also was very apparent that her ministrations had created even more 'tears' from my hard penis which were now sprinkled all over my legs. 

She wiped off her finger while saying, "you can't trust little boys. They say they don't have to poop and they look all clean but really they are just too embarrassed to admit it. I had to check, of course." Then, she put the rag on the floor and stood up. "OK, bend over the chair. Let's heat up that bottom of yours," she said just a little too happily. 

We switched places while she fetched the paddle we use for the warm-up time. On the bare and swung with purpose, it was going to sting blindingly. After such a build up, the spanking started with little additional fanfare. She didn't ask if I was ready or even say anything more. As I leaned over the back and held the seat of the chair, I felt the paddle tap my left cheek twice, disappear, and then a gunshot of sound and pain exploded in the room. It was followed by countless more as I struggled to stay in position. It probably only lasted a minute or two but it felt like an eternity. I questioned every decision that brought me to be naked in her messy little living room. 

To ground me in the moment and the real (though pretend) reason for why I was there, she asked rhetorically, "Do you think this is a little bit of how Cindy was feeling today?" Then, not waiting for an answer, "I am going to make sure you regret taking that poor little girl's virginity. Even with that little tiny penis of yours, I am sure that you hurt that little girl." 

With a flourish, it was suddenly over and the only sound in the room was her heavy breathing from the exertion and my mewing little boy getting spanking ouchy noises: ow, sorry, no, .... She never lets me recover and quickly directed me to the first chore: load and start the dishwasher. It is strange that I pay her but I'm the one that cleans the apartment. Our little sessions end usually when we are either out of time or more commonly, when her apartment is clean. It was pretty messy so I was thinking my bottom was in for a rough night. 

I was back in position after the dishwasher for a repeat with the paddle. The sting hadn't lasted long from the first round. This is part of the pattern where she works the meaty parts of my bottom until there is a lingering burning sting and then she moves on to other implements and techniques. 

I cleaned the kitchen (oval warmup paddle) and then vacuumed the living room (leather tawse), made her bed (more with that stingy wicked tawse), and even dusted (the tawse again though I was begging for anything else). Then I got working on the bathroom. The bathroom cleaning was interrupted by sessions with a medium size wooden spoon. She uses it to spread out the sting to the places that a flat paddle and that evil piece of leather just can't get to like down and inside my crack. During every spanking, she talked to me about Cindy. I heard how she could have gotten pregnant, how she was hurt, and how she wouldn't be virgin on her wedding night. It was awful hearing what a terrible person I could have been. 

My bottom was already sore and swollen when the punishment paddle came out while I was working on the bathroom. Mommy asked me to be sure to scrub the toilet and I said I would but I didn't say 'mommy' in the sentence. It is a strict rule when I answer a command: I have to call her 'mommy' every single time. I didn't notice the mistake until I came out after doing that chore (and doing it quite well, if I may say so myself) and saw the punishment paddle out next to the spoon. 

It is a terrifying implement consisting of a heavy hard wood oval that can cover an entire butt cheek. To add to its effectiveness, holes are drilled through it. The first infraction calls for two swats on each cheek and though that is a chilling thought, each infraction adds two more to the count. One time I was so bad that I got the punishment treatment four times. I started crying before the last session and mommy rubbed my back and whispered sweet things to me before giving me eight quick and hard spanks on first my right cheek and then eight more on my left. It was over in less than thirty seconds but left me in ruins. 

Four spanks with the monster wouldn't be too bad but she was in good form and I wasn't recovering between spankings anymore. At the beginning, the sting dissipates during the chore and I go into the next spanking like it was the first. After a few trips over the back of the chair, I start to feel the sting during the entire choir. After a few more, I am positively dragging my feet. My bottom already was burning and the sight of the punishment paddle ripped the apologies from my throat.

"Mommy, no, I'm sorry, mommy. Please mommy not the punishment paddle. I'll be good, I promise. Please mommy, no punishment paddle," I pleaded. I do plenty of pleading during my spanking time anyway but this was more desperate. Perhaps it was the memory of the night with so many punishment extras that made me so scared. Or possibly it was just that my bottom had taken a real beating already. Either way, she wasn't moved and, in fact, looked very pleased with herself for getting such a reaction out of me. 

"I'm sorry too, baby, but you didn't call me 'mommy' and we just can't have that. I have to give you extra punishment spanks or you just won't learn," she patiently explained to the little boy standing before her. "I think this lack of respect for your mommy is the same lack of respect you had for Cindy today so we are going to have extra spanks with the punishment paddle tonight. I think six on each cheek will do it. A nice even dozen." 

And that is when I realized that my fantasy was coming true. What I really wanted to be was broken, controlled, and pushed beyond what I could handle. It was more than the pain. The game was getting real and though I could say the safe word, if I stayed in the game, I was going to go to a place that I craved but didn't understand. Something was happening and if I let it, the punishment was going to be real for the first time. 

"Come on, baby, let's have your regular spanking first and then we'll take care of your punishment spanks," she said patting the chair. 

I shuffled closer slowly and heard myself say, "I'm scared, mommy," in a voice of a little boy about to cry. She took a step toward me, took my hand, and pulled me the last couple steps to the spanking chair. Instead of helping me over it, she instead pulled me close and hugged me tight. Never before had she done this and I let myself melt into her maternal arms. At first my penis hung free between us but her firm but gentle right hand rested on my left bottom cheek and she pulled me close and then patted the abused flesh. I let myself be hugged by my mommy. Her breasts pushed against my naked chest and my mostly soft penis pressed against stomach. 

"Baby, mommy has to give you a big spanking now. Your boom-boom is going to hurt real bad. You can cry if you need to. Spankings are supposed to hurt and everybody cries sometimes. You were very naughty today. That little girl cried because of you, right? I think you should cry too." 

It was all folding in on me for some reason. I was finally paying for all the 'naked games' I played when I was younger but it was like the weight was being lifted off me. All I had to do was let it go and accept my punishment instead of fighting it. I sniffled into her neck and it was like the sound triggered a chain reaction. I felt my face contort as I started to cry. "There-there, baby," she said patting my bottom for just a few seconds before pushing me away and helping me over the back of the chair. 

The world was all watery from the tears in my eyes and with my head down it was worse because the tears had nowhere to go. I felt a wooden spoon tap my bottom and her left hand caress my middle back and then push down slightly as if to hold me in place. A sob escaped me a second before the spoon produced purifying fire. 

My ouchy noises were louder than ever and mixed with crying as she reignited the fire on my bottom. I gripped the chair and danced my feet but stayed in position. In fact, I was at peace staying right there and letting it happen to me. It needed to happen even though it burned and stung with mind-erasing intensity. 

Then there was a pause and a new larger and heavier tapping on my bottom replaced the stingy spoon. Her left hand pressed down harder on my back and the wood disappeared from my bottom. "Hold still, baby," she said before the punishment paddle crashed into my bottom. Twelve quick but very hard strokes were over in seconds leaving the only sound in the room that of a well-spanked child crying. I was suddenly in her arms again but only briefly before she led me to her couch where she sat me down on the rough fabric. I wasn't looking at her so I didn't see her take off her dress before she sat down to my left. 

She pulled my shoulders so that I was facing to my right away from her and then pulled me back so that I would be lying on my back on her lap. "Put your legs up on the couch darling and just lay back on mommy's lap," she encouraged. I did and then rolled a little to hug her only to feel a naked breast on my face. I almost forgot about the rough fabric of the cheap couch torturing my bottom as I twisted. "Here you go, sweetie. Nursing always made you feel better when you were a baby," she said guiding my mouth to her nipple. 

We were never sexually involved and this seemed pretty close to the line but I was afraid to disobey here so I put her dark nipple to my lips and started to gently suck. She gasped but held me tight with her left hand. She cooed, "its OK, baby. You were so brave. That was such a hard spanking. Mommy is very proud of her little boy." Her breathing betrayed her own arousal. 

I tried to nurse on her breast like a baby but curiosity got the best of me and I explored her nipple and areola with my lips, tongue and teeth. I was suckling on her for only seconds before I felt her right hand on my thigh, then scrotum and then on my still very soft penis. He was still slippery and covered with pre-cum even though not erect any more. She gently fondled me and whispering encouragement: "that's right, baby. Let mommy nurse her little boy." I felt her shiver. 

Her words were stuttering a little as she taunted me, "see baby, this is why you need to wait to have sex. You are just a little baby yourself." I was probably a combination of the stimulation of her nipple, the hardening penis in her hand, and the power of a grown man, but she was clearly enjoying herself. "Is nursing from mommy making you feel better?" she asked breathlessly. I nodded and moaned. "Of course it does. Nursing always makes little ones feel better even after big spanking on their botty. Oh, and now your pee-pee is getting hard again. Mommy knows how to make baby's pee-pee nice and hard. It is so slippery; just covered with tears like your face is too. You've both been crying a lot. 

"Mommy had to spank you for being so naughty today. We can't let you be a naughty boy. You have to be punished when you are bad and you were very bad today rubbing your penis on little Cindy's tickle. You aren't old enough to do that. You need to have a big penis with hair all around it before you have sexy time with girls. This little pee-pee isn't ready to satisfy even a little girl and certainly not a woman. No, not yet." 

She sighed again and said, "baby nurses so nice but I think that breast is all done." She twisted away from my mouth and used the hand that had been holding tight to pull me away. Then, taking her right hand off my now completely hard penis, she guided her right nipple to my mouth and sighed deeply as I started to suckle eagerly. "Good boy," she breathed returning her hand to my bobbing penis. With her left hand, she held me tight again. 

"I think your pee-pee is ready to make squirties, isn't it?" she asked. I moaned the obvious answer. I was indeed enjoying her ministrations. "Mommy knows how to make her little boy feel better but because you were naughty, I can't let you squirt like this. Naughty boys only make squirties with spankees, right?" I groaned. "I know baby's botty is already very ouchy. More spankees are going to make it really sting but that will help you wiggle and squirt. Then you can clean up mommy's lap. That will be nice, won't it?" she asked knowing that I hate that part. I just groaned and tried to concentrate on her fingers softly gliding up and down my shaft. 

Then her hand was gone and she was pulling my mouth from her breast. The nipple popped out of my mouth and I moaned with disappointment. "Get up and bring mommy the hairbrush," she said with a little more joy than I was happy with. I got up slowly on shaky legs and immediately had a head rush and stumbled over to my spanking bag, crouched down and searched through it for the most conflicting spanking item. Something about this little brush makes for a blistering and blinding spanking but when my bottom is being spanked with it, I almost always have a fun little squirt and sometimes the squirt feels really good. 

When I turned around, my naked mommy was facing me but bent over in front of the spanking chair straightening out a towel on the floor. She stood up straight and my eyes stared straight at her crotch. Her pubic hair was trimmed but was long enough to still obscure what hid beneath. Still, her young frame was beautiful, feminine, and sensuous. She sat down primly and patted her thigh. Pointing at a bottle on the table right by me, she said, "bring over the slippery and make mommy's lap ready." 

I picked up the bottle, walked over, handed her the brush, and then froze staring at her naked lap. "Go ahead, sugar, make mommy's lap all slippery. It will feel good and make it easier for you to make squirties during your spanking." 

I knew all this, of course, but she was enjoying torturing me, I think. I knelt down, popped open the top and squirted the strawberry scented lube on first her right and then left thigh. I tried to gauge where about I would be making contact with her and focusing there. I didn't want to be inappropriate and put lube too close to her sex. Using my right hand, I spread the lube in a thin layer over her thighs. She took my hand in hers and brought it closer to her vagina. "Make sure you cover everywhere. I know how you wiggle when you get a spanking on my lap." I complied and even squirted a little more lube on her thighs. My fingers just grazed her pubic hair. 

"OK?" I asked. She nodded and asked, "are you ready to make?" 

I tried to look away but ended up just staring at the oily dark skin of her thighs and that mysterious tuft of black hair between them. I nodded shyly and whispered, “yes, mommy.” 

"Good boy," she cooed. "I'm going to give you a big spankee so that you make big squirties and when they are all out, it is going to be super ouchy. You are going to do some crying, I think but when it is over, I want you to clean up your messy like a good boy. Do a good job or I will put you right back over my lap. Understand?" 

In spite of the beautiful woman sitting naked in front of me, the promise of more punishment on my already very tender and abused bottom caused me very real concern. I remained in character but protested, "no, please, mommy, I just want to make stickies. No more ouchies. Please, mommy." My whining sounded childish and annoying in my own ears. 

She was patient but firm. "I know your boom-boom has had a lot of punishment today but mommy would be a bad mommy if she let her little boo-boo make squirts without a big ouchie spanking. You know little boys aren't allowed to make their squirties like big boys. You are just a naughty little boy." 

Her beautiful thighs had me mesmerized. I imaged what they would look like covered in my messy semen and what it was going to be like kneeling between them and licking it off. My penis pulsed excitedly. In spite of the impending torture awaiting my bottom, I nodded and whispered another breathless, "yes, mommy." 

"That's a good boy. It will all be over soon. 

"OK, over you go, baby." 

I was shaking with anticipation as I bent over her lap and slid effortlessly into place. She put her left around my waist and pulled me closer. I felt her left breast graze my back and the softness was electrifying. 

The wood of the hairbrush rested on my right cheek and I braced myself for what I knew was going to be a ferocious sting. I whined a last 'no' of protest as the hard wood tapped gently. 

I am terrible lover. My penis is a little shorter than average and on the thin side. I probably prematurely ejaculate three quarters of the time but sometimes I can go the distance and make my lovers happy. In spite of feeling like a hotdog in a hallway during vaginal intercourse, I still pop too quickly probably because of some biological drive to attempt procreation coupled with the sheer joy of finding a woman that will allow me to enter her. 

Anal sex is better because almost every woman is so tight. That is a rare treat for me and since I am so worried about hurting her, I seem to be able to hold out a little longer. 

Of course, if she is charitable enough to put my little guy in her mouth, it is an act of pure will to not immediately ejaculate. I always warn my lovers that if my penis is in their mouth, my semen will follow very soon after. One woman didn't believe me and laughed thinking that I was just being nice. To say she was surprised would be a gross understatement. It was our last date and clearly it ended poorly which upset me since I had been very honest. 

I say all this to make the point that I know what 'real' sex feels like; my mommy's thighs weren't the only lovers my penis had ever experienced. Still, they felt delicious, slippery and soft, but also uneven with the valley between them. I thought I could feel pubic hair on my shaft even but wasn't sure if that was just wishful thinking. My penis pulsed with anticipation and I tried to force myself not to start rutting right away. 

The wood disappeared and my need for stimulation overruled my stoic desire to prolong the moment. I dragged my raging erection across her skin and felt my bottom clench tight. The hairbrush crashed into my tensed muscles and I grunted in protest. The sting followed as did more spanks from the hard wood. I twisted and wiggled under the punishment. Soon, my bottom jiggled under each spank when I wasn't clenched tight and I was humping with abandoned trying to simultaneously escape the brush but also recapture the good feelings in the tip of my penis. 

My orgasm was upon me suddenly. I would love to say that it was mind-blowing fireworks but really it was more of a release. Like the ejaculation of a man being hanged, it was my body's last attempt at procreation. Semen sprayed from the tip of my penis onto the lap of my lover and I only registered the slightest tingling at the very tip as the thick liquid forced its way out. 

Sex was over and done. The good chemicals flooded my brain and mixed with the pain she was delivering. I went limp over her lap and felt my bottom cheeks jiggle and bounce with each strike. The hard wood lit a fire on my bottom that penetrated through my entire body. A boy was crying. All hope was lost. Fire consumed me. 

"OK, that's enough. Up you go," she said a second after the last gunshot of wood on swollen bottom cheek was heard. I was sobbing but knew better than to give her more opportunity to punish my naughty bottom. Struggling to my feet, I caught a glimpse of my sticky ejaculate stretch like glue between us for a fraction of a second. 

Crying still but quietly I stood on wobbly feet beside her and inspected the damage done to her beautiful thighs. Because she had pulled me close to her, I had indeed squirted my seed nearer to her crotch than normal. In fact, some of it was tangled in her pubic hair. Slowly and with ceremonious intention, she spread her legs revealing her young sex. Had I not spent myself seconds before, I would possibly had spontaneously ejaculated at the sight. Her dark skin shown through the sparse black pubic hair framing first deep dark red outer lips and then electric pink inner folds. Her clitoris poked out from under its protective hood like an erect penis. 

Her thighs were covered with semen and it was my final duty to lick them clean. Long ago I had admitted to her that this was something I hated but needed to do. Only once did I protest. I knew the penalty I was going to receive even for pausing not to mention ask for reprieve. Never again did I even pause. 

I was on my knees between her legs staring at her beautiful sex as much as I could as I started licking up the impossibly salty and tangy semen that thankfully also had just a hint of strawberry. With her hand on the back of my head she guided me in my task and forced me to complete it. As I felt the semen coating my soft, pale, and hairless genitals cool as it dried, she pulled me closer to her treasures and finally held me in place as she made me service her. 

It took less than a minute for her pleasure to be complete as well which surprised me because--like all of my skills with women--I am passable at best when it comes to cunnilingus. Perhaps it was the burning of my bottom or the threat of more that made me better that night. Perhaps she was excited by our game as well. Whatever the reason, I found myself with her clitoris between my lips as her muscles contracted under my chin and her still wet thighs covered in lube, semen and my saliva pressed hard against the side of my head as she groaned through her orgasm. 

She pulled me off of her when she had enough and I sat back staring at her beauty. I reached up to wipe my face but she stopped me. "No, baby, no cleaning up." Then, after a pregnant pause, "I want my boyfriend to see you." 

The doorbell rang and she said with a wink, "can you answer the door for mommy, please? You know how he doesn't like to wait."

Witnessed and Witnessed

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

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

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

Confused?

I confuse spanking and sex inside me.  For me, a spanking prolongs my arousal.  The pleasure and pain mix in my head.  I don’t actually like spanking for discipline if the offensive is anything besides being turned on by spanking.  What is more shameful than being sexually excited when one is going to be punished? 

I am warned before the spanking—long before.  I will be punished merely because I want the spanking.  I know I am supposed to dread this but instead I look forward to it.  I’m hard all the time and oozing pre-cum into my underwear.  At work, I am constantly hiding an erection.  Driving is difficult because I get distracted thinking about what is to come.  When I rarely soften, I feel the cool wetness that coats the head of my penis.  I wonder if anyone else can see it.  Did I ooze enough to soak through my underwear and my jeans?  I’m ashamed to have to check.  I wonder if other men are driving home right now with their attention distracted, their members erect, their bottoms tingling, worried that if a cop stops them, they will still be erect when he comes to the door? 

She makes me wait at home.  I explain that I’ve been hard all day thinking about the spanking and ask if I could take off my pants because the erection is uncomfortable.  She thinks this is cute and she agrees.  I was going to leave my underwear on but my briefs are so stained that I opt to just be naked from the waist down. Naked.  Sex happens when I’m naked.  

Naked is sex.  Sex can only happen when people are naked.  I’m naked now and my sex organ is ready to consummate.  It craves its release and oozes more pre-cum in preparation for penetration.  The head is a sticky mess from the day but the new pre-cum flows freely down the shaft.  My wife chuckles when she sees me.  She is amused that I think I am going to have sex.  I’m not.  My penis will be inches from her vagina but will not gain access.  Her mouth and bottom will be off limits as well.  She might touch me but she will probably just make me touch myself. 

We eat dinner and I soften a little during preparation, eating and cleaning.  Once we are finished, I am hard again and anxious.  I hope that she doesn’t want to watch TV before my spanking.  I need my release so I ask if she is going to spank me now.  She tells me that she does want to watch some TV and that there just isn’t time to really punish me before the show starts.  I try not to plead but the disappoint shows on my face.  

“Well, maybe we can get started at least,” she says and reaches for a wooden spoon.  She picks a light one that I know won’t hurt very much.  Then she sits down on the couch in front of the TV and beacons me over.  She positions me between her knees facing to her left.  She makes me take off my shirt so that now I’m completely naked.  My penis sticks straight out not knowing that she is going to ignore him.  Instead, she cups my left cheek.  She teases me with pats and scraping her fingers down my crack.  She is paying attention to me and that is good.  My penis bobs his approval and oozes more pre-cum that will go to waste. 

She spanks me standing with her hand.  She knows this is my least favorite position because my penis isn’t touching her or anything.  It doesn’t hurt very much but causes me to “fuck” the air in front of me lewdly.  She switches to the spoon.  It is a light spoon and also won’t really hurt.  She is teasing me.  I have no sexual gratification in this position unless I spontaneously orgasm.  I’m aroused but not that aroused.  It wouldn’t take much attention to my member for me to cum, and she knows this.  This part of the spanking is just to tease and embarrass me.  When she decides the show is going to start, she stops.  “I’m going to watch this show.  Go stand someplace where I don’t have to look at your dirty penis.” 

The next half hour is more torture.  Now my bottom tingles.  It has had a taste of the pain to come.  My penis is still not satisfied and I know that being aroused this long will create a copious and probably wonderful orgasm.  I want it so bad but I don’t dare touch myself. 

The show ends and I hope that this means that she will finish my spanking, let me cum, and give me my painful release. 

“I suppose I should probably give you the rest of your punishment now.  I see your penis is still hard.  What a silly man: all ready for sex but going to get a spanking instead.  Tell you what, let’s just pretend I—or anyone—am going to have sex with you.  Go get our KY.” 

I go to the bedroom and retrieve from my night stand the KY to bring back to her.  I’ll be back here a couple more times since this is where we keep the spanking implements.  Once in front of her again, she instructs me to lube myself up: “I want you all shiny and oily.  Don’t forget your testicles.”  I am careful not to stimulate myself and I comply with a generous amount all over my sex.  “If we were going to have sex, I am probably a little over dressed.  I am going to go get undressed.  You wait here.” 

More waiting.  I’m standing in the living room of the house I own naked and erect.  My wife returns not naked but wearing lingerie that exposes her breasts and vagina.  She is beautiful and appears also ready to consummate our marriage.  “How would you like to have sex, dear?” she asks seductively.  “Do you want to take me like a caveman—just throw me over the couch and fuck my pussy?  Or my ass?  Or do you want me to suck the cum out of you?  Or do you want to be romantic and gently make love to me?” 

These are trick questions but I answer that I would like to make love to her very much.  “Please let me make love to you.  You don’t have to spank me.  I’ll do it real good, I promise,” I plead. 

“No, I don’t think so.  Your penis is hard, but I don’t think it will do the trick for me tonight.  I think you are going to cum too soon and not make me happy.  What I think will make me happy is spanking you.  Hard.  And a lot.  I’m going to spank all the nasty cum right out of you and then I am going keep right on spanking you till you cry.  Now, let’s spank that erection down a little so that we don’t make a mess in our living room.” 

I knew I wasn’t going to have sex but she was so cruel.  She even fingered herself a little.  She walked past me into the kitchen.  “Get in here,” she commanded and I walked my glistening bobbing penis into the room with her.  She was already picking out a much more sturdy spoon.  “Just bend over the counter there,” she pointed, “and we’ll have that naughty erection all taken care of in just a couple minutes.” 

I bent over the counter and presented my still tingling bottom to my wife.  She slapped my bottom a couple times with her hand and then I felt the wood of the spoon as she positioned it on her target.  It was removed, a pause, and then the first real sting of night.  Finally, I was getting my spanking and I was almost relived that it was starting.  She spanked hard and fast.  The pain built quickly and I started to squirm.  I looked down to see my penis starting to droop but even as I looked, another drop of hopeful pre-cum appeared. 

My wife likes to end spankings by concentrating on one cheek for a dozen swats, then the other for another dozen and then alternating again for the climax.  This hurts so bad that I almost cry every time.  She started on my left cheek until it was on fire and then set fire to my right.  I was in distress for sure as she started alternating for the climax.  Sex wasn’t on my mind as the last spanks hit.  Instead, I was concentrating on a burning and stinging that overwhelmed my bottom.  It seemed to burn right into my crack. 

“OK, stand up.  Let’s see if you are still a big man” she commanded.  On shaky legs I stood and turned around to show my now only partially erect member to her.  “Now you look like a bad little boy.  You look like a little boy now and not like a man at all.  Little boys don’t have sex with women.  Little boys masturbate and get spankings.  Let’s go watch you masturbate.  That will be fun, won’t it?” she said putting down the spoon.  “Come on.  Off to the bathroom where you masturbate,” she chided. 

I like bathroom spankings because they remind me of being spanked as a child.  Those weren’t good memories but at least being naked and in the bathroom hearing the spanks echo off the tile is familiar and seems like the way it is supposed to be.  That is where bad boys get their medicine.  When I learned about masturbation, the bathroom, because of its privacy was the logical place.  One day, I masturbated in the bathroom in the morning and was spanked in it by mom in the afternoon. 

My wife led me to the bathroom.  Her pristine and perfect white bottom beckoned me to follow.  I knew mine wasn’t pale white like her’s anymore.  She sat on the toilet, told me to close the door behind me (just like when a mother wants privacy while she spanks her naughty child) and motioned for me to stand by her right side.  As I gazed at her aroused sex between her spread legs she said, “OK, let’s see you masturbate you bad boy.” 

I don’t like to masturbate in front of my wife.  She knows this and she also knows that it will take more and more arousal for me to handle the next spanking sessions.  My erection was returning on its own but I helped it along.  My normal style is thumb on top and two fingers below.  I grasped of my member and started sliding up and down.  I was so slippery from the KY that it was hard to not slide off.  But it felt wonderful and I sucked in breath from the surprise of instant pleasure.  It didn’t take long before I started to lose control.  I imagined what it would be like to spray cum all over my surprised wife.  She was watching as I rapidly was approaching an orgasm.  “Stop” she demanded “Stop now” she repeated when I didn’t immediately take my hand away.  I was so close.  Just a little more and the tension would be released.  I wanted it so bad. 

“Was that fun?” she said and I nodded.  “I bet it was.  This isn’t about you having fun though.  This is about you getting your punishment.  So, get down over my knee and I’m going to spank you like the little boy you are.” 

I bent over her thighs and reached to touch the floor on the other side.  She kept her legs spread enough so that my erection hung freely between them.  It pulsed as if it was trying to reach her pussy that was just inches away.  I realized that this might be as close as my erection would get to her sex all night.  My testicles were still in a tight little package like they always become just before I orgasm.  I looked up and watch a drop of pre-cum slowly drip off the end of my angry erection. 

She spanked me with her hand but after the spoon spanking it was enough.  Soon I was that bad little boy being spanked in the bathroom while my sister listened through the door or I was that awkward teenager that got an inappropriate erection while being spanked in this exact same position in this same kind of room.  The spanks echoed around me.  Every squeak I made was amplified.  I was so ashamed when I started squirming from just a little hand spanking.  But it hurt.  Whenever I got a bathroom spanking, it hurt and I usually cried.  She started into the climax progression and I started to feel the usual distress and panic of a spanking that hurts too much to bear.  The alternating spanks after she set fire to each of my cheeks went on longer than I expected and I started to make a lot of noise. 

Then she was finished and she told me I could get up.  My penis was again drooping but not soft.  A few drops of pre-cum glistened on the tile floor where I had dripped.  “You can clean those up, I think” she said.  I got a tissue and bent over to wiped them up from the floor between her knees.  Of course, I caught a glimpse between her thighs.  Her lips were parted like they get when she is excited and she smelled musky.  My genitals ignored the fire crackling on my bottom and started working to prepare me for sex again. 

“Well, little boy, I think it is time we got out the hairbrush for you.  I like how the hairbrush makes you dance.  Let’s go into the bedroom for this part.” 

Again she led and I followed her bottom into the room where we usually have sex.  My penis was again hopeful as the man and wife walked into the room where they normally copulate.  “Kneel of the bed facing the headboard” she commanded.  This is another of my least favorite positions.  She walked over to my night stand as I got into position and instead of taking out the hairbrush, she grabbed a small paddle.  “Let’s just make sure you aren’t still thinking I’m going to have sex with you.  I promise I’ll spank you with the hairbrush next.” 

This wasn’t much of a consolation.  Apparently she thought that I needed a paddling before my brushing. 

The position where I kneel facing the headboard is like standing up for spanking except that I can sort of lean against the headboard and the wall.  “OK, I want to hold yourself up with your left hand and hold onto your naughty penis with your right.  But no masturbating.”  I did as I was told and was rewarded with a paddle crack across both cheeks that immediately lit a fire.  My hand on my penis—even if I wasn’t actively masturbating--was good and the jerk that I did to escape the paddle impact gave me some stimulation. 

She spanked me with the paddle probably a dozen times and it started to really hurt.  I wasn’t sure how I was going to handle the brush after this.  “OK, that was fun.  How is your penis now?  Still ready for sex or has he figured out that isn’t going to happen?  Take your hand away and let me see.” 

My penis was mostly hard again and shamefully glistening with the KY and all the pre-cum.  “OK, I guess we will just have to solve that problem with the brush then.”  She said.  “Move over and let me sit down.”  I did and she sat down with her legs out straight.  “Get me your hairbrush and the KY again.”  I had to go out to the living room to get the KY which is a long walk when you are naked, have a throbbing erection and a burning bottom.  When I got back from parading through the house, I handed her the KY and then got her my hairbrush. 

“OK, kneel right her” she said patting the bed to her right.  “Good, now put some more KY on your penis; it looks a little dry and I think we are going to want it very slippery for this spanking.”  I did as I was told and my member nodded approval for the attention.  “Now, over you go.  Put your sticky sex right here on mama’s legs.  That’s it.  You feel so hard against my legs.  Such a big man about to get a spanking like a little boy.  You just cry into your pillow and we’ll have this nasty hard penis all small like the little boy you are in no time.  That will be nice, won’t it?  Nice and soft and none of those filthy sexy thoughts anymore.” 

Then she started spanking me with her hand.  There was already a burn from the paddle so this stings more than a hand spanking should but not unbearably.  It is like it wakes up the sting that was already there and gives me a sort of hopeful feeling that I will be able to handle the spanking.  This is by design—my wife’s evil designs, actually—as it will be enough to arouse me but not distract from the good feelings in my genitals.  I twitch a little and the friction across the head of penis as it moves slightly over her thigh catches my complete attention.  I am so lubed up that there really is very little sensation.  It is wet, slippery and sloppy between my erection and her legs.  Even my testicles slip and slide over the right side of her right thigh. 

“You want to pretend you’re having sex, don’t you?  You want to hump on my legs?  Like that time when you were in high school and you dry-humped that girl and came all over your underwear.  Remember how you had to tell her what happened?  How you were pretending to have sex with her and while you were only making out.”  She loved taunting me. 

This really happened when I was only fifteen.  We were just making out and somehow I got positioned with my legs wrapped around her left leg.  It was summer and we were both wearing shorts so it was only my shorts and underwear between me and her bare leg.  It took almost no time because I was so excited by kissing and hugging this beautiful girl. She tasted so good and her soft, warm body was nothing like mine. 

We re-situated a little and suddenly there was contact and she sort of tensed up a little like she wasn’t sure what to think about this boy’s teenage erection pressing against her.  I also tensed up but not for the same reason; it felt good.  I couldn’t help it and I humped against her leg.  It felt better than good and I shivered into the kiss that was rapidly falling apart.  It felt too good and I did it again.  I was going in for the third hump when I opened my eyes to see her looking at me curiously.  I arched forward involuntarily and came inside my boxers while staring her right in the eyes.  The poor girl was looking into my eyes as she felt me pulsing against her leg.  I groaned, closed my eyes, and convulsed slightly.  When I came out of my orgasm, I realized with horror what I had just done and quickly pulled away from the scared girl.  She was a year younger than me and I knew that she was less serious than me.  She just started asking half questions like “was that your thing?” and “Did you just?” and finally ended with some word like “yuck”.  I don’t know which one of us was more traumatized. I told my wife this years ago and she thought it was cute how ashamed I was.  I explained that it was very confusing because it felt so good but was such a shameful act.  I mean, I basically had a sexual experience—my first sexual experience—against a girl who didn’t know it was happening only to completely lose control almost immediately and make a mess in my underwear.  I felt like it said something about me being a pervert or bad lover or something. 

Later, one night, we were out in the park looking at a meteor shower and I sort of rolled over, wrapped myself around my wife, and kissed her.  I started to get erect and playfully humped against her.  “What do you say we do it right here in the park?”  I teased.  “I don’t think that is a good idea.” She said with the seriousness of a heart attack.  But I was sort of turned on by my own silly idea.  I mean, we were all alone in this park with no lights.  It would be so exciting to just have a quick little screw right where everyone could see us.  So, I kept humping her.  “Come on.  It’ll be fun,” I whispered.  “No way, I’m not in the mood at all.  If you want to get your rocks off, I’ll lay her while you do it but I am not taking my pants off in this park,” she harshly whispered back.  “Maybe I will,” I snapped back sounding all hurt. 

That got her angry.  “Yeah, you will.  Right now.  Just like this.  You can make a mess in your underwear if you want.  Whenever we do these little adventures, I always end up sitting in your gross stuff for hours.  You do it this time.  We’ll see how you like it.  Come on.  Do it.  Get it over with,” she barked and started squirming against me.  I was scared and that was exciting so I started rutting against my wife.  “That’s it.  Think what people would think if they saw you like this.  They’d think you were sick.  That you have a problem.  Or that you are such an inadequate lover that your wife won’t even have sex with you.  Come on, make your little mess.  I am so going to make you sleep in that pair of underwear tonight.  You can just wear them to work tomorrow too.  You might as well remember how well you pleased your wife sexually tonight,” she chanted sarcastically. 

Then—in my mind—I saw what I looked like: a grown man, clothed, and humping a fully clothed, disinterested woman.  I was just a bundle of uncontrolled hormones that needed to cum so bad that he was willing to do it in his own underwear.  I had a shame-filled orgasm and convulsed against her.  She waited until I was finished and then with a smirk, said “you all done now?  I’d like to get back to looking at the stars if you don’t need me anymore.”  She was in character because she knew it worked for me.  She puts up with a lot. 

Here I was again: face down across my wife’s lap selfishly being punished for being, well, selfish.  She probably wanted to have sex with me but knew that it would end too soon and that I need to get my spankings every now and then.  She would get something later.  But now, now she was just making her sick husband do his dirty business.  Men have needs and men are pigs. 

It felt good and it was going to end soon unless she turned on the heat.  Almost like she read my mind, she moved to the hairbrush.  My hairbrush has a hardwood back and its head is about five inches long and three inches wide.  Wherever it lands, it creates little elliptical patches of fire.  She didn’t spank hard or fast but just enough to sting me away from a premature orgasm.  The delay was probably only for a minute or two but it was enough to bring me back from the brink and make me have to work harder to get back over the edge. 

The hairbrush made me dance a little more which probably looked to her like I was just humping for the sake of humping.  “That’s it.  Do your little dirty thing.<spank>  Make your little pee-pee feel good.<spank>  Are you going to have your little cummy?<spank>  Oh, that so cute.<spank,spank>  Little baby wants to have a big boy cum.<spank>  Make all those little sperms come out.<spank, spank>  You can do it. <spank> Come for mommy.<spank, spank>…” she taunted.  I did feel like a little boy and all my sexual and spanking misadventures rattled around in my head.  One time I got an erection in the showers at school.  Another time I came trying to put the condom on.  I got a spanking from my mom and was erect from the time I pulled down my pants to the time I was sent to the corner.  I was too young to know what it meant or be embarrassed but when I was teenager, during a spanking I got hard between her legs and kept bumping the tip of my erection into the inside of her left leg.  I didn’t want to think about it at the time, but there was probably a pre-cum wet spot on her pants. 

Still spanking between the taunts, she continued: “I bet it feels so good against your little soldier.  He’s so cute how he wants to be all big and stuff.  One day, maybe some girl will touch him.  He’s too small for that now.  Oh, are going to make your little cummy now?  Your little cum-cum.  You going to squirt a little?”  I nodded.  I was close.  “Go ahead.  I won’t spank you hard until you have your little squirt.  Its OK.  I won’t make you cry until it is all over.  Come on, baby.  You can do it.  That’s my little boy.  Make mommy proud.” 

It was a good cum just like I thought it would be.  My humping got faster and the humps shorter, and then I froze for a second before collapsing on her lap as the semen pumped out of my body.  “See, I knew you could do,” and immediately, she started spanking me fast and hard.  At first, I was still feeling the pleasure of the orgasm so the spanking didn’t immediately hurt but then, it suddenly chased my orgasm away and the post-coital relaxation betrayed me by making me too weak to fight it physically or emotionally. 

“I can’t believe the mess you made.  Do you think girls like this?  Do you think this is sexy?  Do you think I like having cum all over my legs?” she lectured.  The pain was building intolerably and I knew she was going to make me cry.  Sixty seconds or so after my orgasm, I let out a ‘ooooo’ sound and started to cry softly.  “Oh my God, are you crying?  What a baby you are!  Are you sad that your little pee-pee is so small?  Or are you sad that you only make little boy cum-cum?  Did you make a mess?” 

I started crying louder and the struggle came back but I could feel that the struggle was just spreading the mess underneath me.  My wilting penis and all my spent seed slowly flowed to between her legs.  I ground into her trying to escape the hairbrush but it kept finding targets all over my bottom. She moved to my sit spots alternating at first and then paying special attention to my right sit spot, then my left, and then, in case I wasn’t already sobbing loudly, she spanked me over and over again right on my crack above my anus.  The burn radiated right between my cheeks.  Then she was alternating again fast and hard.  I was a mess by the time it was all over. 

“OK, get up.  Let’s see what kind of mess we have to clean-up.”  I wasn’t ready to get up.  She knew that.  I wasn’t composed, the tears were still flowing and I was still sobbing.  As I got to my knees, my penis pulled away from the sticky mess between her legs and though a lot stayed on her, big globs of cum coated my penis and testicles as well as all over my stomach.  Of course, now I was a little boy.  My manly penis was now tiny, pale and dripping.  My testicles were coated with the very stuff that they used to contain.  Not only that, but I was kneeling next to my wife crying.  “Oh, look at this mess.  I can’t believe you did this to me.  Makes me want to spank you more if I thought I could stand more of you crying.  Well, you made the mess, you clean it.  Get down there and lick it up.  Don’t look so surprised you boys always want women to swallow it.  You do it.  See if you like it.”  I paused for a second and didn’t even see her raise her arm to spank me before the fire reignited.  I burst into tears again and pleaded for her to stop.  Then I was down with my face again between my wife’s legs licking my spend off her.  It tasted less bad than I thought it would but I certainly wasn’t loving it. 

“That’s enough.  Go to your corner.  No rubbing.  No wiping your face.  No cleaning up.  You just stand there and think about what happened.” 

I went to my corner and felt cum drip off my scrotum onto my legs.  I was standing there for about fifteen minutes thinking when I started to get hard again.  Just a little.  After half an hour, I was released from my corner.  I turned to face my wife with most of an erection ready to please her with.  My bottom tingled as I walked to the bed where my wife lay naked and ready.  She tapped the brush against her palm and asked, “you ready to try to please me?” 

I mounted her and felt her reach around behind me and tap the brush against my bottom.  Like a starting gun, the first crack got me moving.  She set the tempo as I thrust into her.  Just before she came, she stopped spanking me.  I came again too shortly after her.

The Good Boy Spankings -- Preface

Disclaimer: This piece relates 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 "A Change To My Blog" post.

Another Story About Winky

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

Simply put, "no squirties without spankees."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even today, my favorite pajamas are red flannel:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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