Three Rosy Bottoms at Midnight: ... and other spanking stories

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Three Rosy Bottoms at Midnight: ... and other spanking stories

Three Rosy Bottoms at Midnight: ... and other spanking stories

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With my jeans gone, mom put her right leg around behind mine. She must have done some research on the internet, because as far as I know she’s never spanked anybody in her life. I felt like a little kid over the lap of this large, strong woman. Mom said to me, “Johnny, you should have told me you wanted to be spanked. I’d have satisfied your curiosity once a day and twice on Sundays.” Before getting breakfast, I took him into the lounge and put him on my knee for a few minutes while I cuddled him and explained that I still loved him, but that if he was naughty in future, Mommy would spank. In assembly I sat in a seat at the end of the row, so as to be able to leave when my name was called out. Then I noticed that the headmaster was not in his usual place on the stage. I started to think that I might escape, or at least gain a reprieve. Of course it was different, because it wasn’t my mum. But once I was dangling over her knee, the experience felt very similar. At least I was now dressed in jeans, so I had a little more protection for my rear end.

Safe and Soundly Spanked, a romance fiction | FictionPress

When the initial greetings were complete, mom said, “Dinner is almost ready, but I think we have time for a few presents.” Kate also took quite a liking to me. She was very warm and motherly to me, which only made my crush on her grow stronger. I began to imagine what it would be like to be spanked by her. I would lie in bed at night and replay in my head the times I had seen Denise or Kristie being spanked – but substituting myself as the naughty child.

The Flogmaster's Interview and Article

They say: “God created man; Samuel Colt made them equal.” I’m thinking a woman created the hairbrush, making her the equal of any man. Even so, at my school in London there was no question of being made to take even your trousers down when you misbehaved, so the possibility that my relatives might administer a birthday spanking in public across my underpants still gave me the heebie-jeebies! In this tender period piece, a woman in a Puritan society is falsely accused of being a witch and is put on trial. (7,555 words.) When Denise’s spanking was over and she returned to the spot where she had been standing, Kate looked at me and said: “Your turn, young man.” I was standing about 10ft away, but the walk to that bench felt like one of those dreams in which you are walking toward a destination but never get any closer to it. My head was spinning – I felt scared, embarrassed, and exhilarated, all at the same time. This took a while, given the painful state of my posterior. Eventually I stood, still tearful, facing Mrs Seaton. My hands were carefully massaging my smarting rear. I could feel the mark left by that wayward third stroke on bare flesh, not covered by my short trousers as the others were.

Wellred Weekly: Vol. 1, No. 1

Mildred went to Ivy’s, where she met Betty and Mary. Like the fire in the plump bottom of our naughty girl, news of the good irls downfall began to spread.As I say, I was a good boy for a long time, but such is the nature of small boys that they can’t be good for too long. I forget exactly what I had done naughty, but one afternoon, soon after I got home from school, Mum exploded on me and said: “Right – I’m ringing Auntie Deirdre!” I begged her not to but she was having none of it. She scooted her wheelchair over to the telephone and made the call. It was a relatively short one. Oh shit! Why today, why does she need a hug? Today of all days when I have let her down.” Thought Karen. Mrs Seaton passed me a box of tissues and I took one and tried to dry my eyes. She warned me to behave myself in future and told me that if I didn't like the cane from her I would like it a lot less from the headmaster. Let these pictures set the scene of the school. Lots of mahogany, lots of polish, everything ‘just so’.

Getting it bare for the first (and probably last) time - My

I was beginning to think that Lindsey's punishment was over - although five seemed an odd number of strokes - when I heard again the awful sound of that cane, but even louder than before.

A New Story Collection

So to my intense embarrassment, I had to pull down my pants and show off my (very red and sore) bottom again – but it was better than a ‘top up’ over Dad’s knee right then. Even more unusually, Mum took me by the hand and sat herself down on the bottom corner of my bed. She opened her legs as much as her dress would allow, drew me in close and asked me some questions. She wanted to know if something had happened at the party, because she had noticed my quieter than usual demeanour. On the first day of my visit, we all hit it off great. Kate was very nice to me, and Denise and Kristie were a lot of fun to play with. Moreover, I thought Kate very pretty, and developed a crush on her almost immediately.

Summertime smacked bottoms – Maman: spanking memories

On my actual birthday, Mum didn’t need to wake me – I was up early and excited. When I walked into the kitchen, still in my pyjamas, she greeted the birthday boy with a big hug and a soppy kiss. She showed me to my cards and gifts on the table. I saw red. Before I had time to even think about what I was doing, I had sat down on the kitchen chair, lowered my son’s pyjama trousers and flipped him over my lap. Obviously, up until this point Simon had no experience of this type of formal punishment but he still could sense the trouble he was in and was already wriggling around, trying to get up from the confusing and frightening position in which he found himself. I simply wrapped my left hand around his slim waist, raised my right hand and brought it down hard on his little bottom. The leaving of school behind her and the journey home was sullen. The man in the bowler hat frowned at her as if he knew. The walk from the bus stop to her lovely cottage was heavy and slow. Two of Mummy’s friends saw her and nudged each other. Was that a snigger? The following true story took place in the summer of 1984, when I was nine years old. My parents had divorced two years earlier. Since then, I had lived with my mom in New England, and had spent four weeks every summer with my dad at his home in Georgia.

Going Deep For You!

Karen listened, and the message sank in. She knew her Mummy did not do idle talk as regards discipline.



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