Spanking After Ruined Orgasm

Perfunctory. Functional. Efficient. 

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

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

Joyless. Mechanical. Necessary. 

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

Sad. Disappointed. Duty. 

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

Indifferent. Dispassionate. Methodical. 

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

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

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

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

Patient. Routine. Obligatory. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Professionally. Skillfully. Persistently. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No Permission Part 2: The Reality of the Thing

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No Permission

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You just wait, mister," she commands. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Therapy Session

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spanked In the Family Room

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not yet, dear," she said calmly. 

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

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

"Mommy, please" I whined. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not yet, baby," mommy answered. 

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

"Your bottom isn't red enough yet." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes," I whispered. 

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

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

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

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

"Yes, mom," she answered quickly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Brother Sister

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 "A Change To My Blog" post.