Humiliating Spanking
🔞 ALL INFORMATION CLICK HERE 👈🏻👈🏻👈🏻
Humiliating Spanking
Yes, There Are More Stories — mrstrict1@aol.com
She lies forward over the sodomy stool, feeling its hard surface beneath her, listening to him at her rear, preparing her behind for chastisement. Behind her, methodically opening the flaps of the humiliation gown he’s made her put on, exposing the seat of her pantied bottom to the mirrored walls of the punishment room.
She looks straight ahead as he opens the gown to reveal her behind, her red strapped cheeks clenched tight underneath the sheer white punishment panties he’s exposed. She looks at the mirror in front of her, wondering who’s behind it, looking out at her. Who can see her there in that humiliating posture; already disgraced, with the greatest part of the mortification still to come.
He has the humiliation gown completely opened now, and he pauses to admire the view. Then tells her in a loud voice to reach back and pull her panties down below her buttocks. And then, after she’s done so, after she’s felt him strip her panties off entirely, to move her hands up to spread her cheeks and reveal everything between them.
She complies, knowing that the watchers behind the mirrored wall that faces her backside are enjoying the scene, enjoying her humiliation as she bends forward, her gown opened, her behind displayed. That’s why he’s invited them there, for their enjoyment and her shame. Corrective humiliation, he always calls it; and its effects on her are so drastic that she shudders even when all he does is say the words.
She bends forward, staring at the glass in front of her, at the watchers she presumes are behind it. She’ll never know who they are, how many have come – if indeed there are any there at all. But it doesn’t matter; even if the viewing areas behind the four mirrored walls of punishment room she’s in are empty, her mind tells her that they’re full.
Her mind tells her she’s being watched, and her senses conspire with that conclusion. Her ears prick whenever he stands still for a moment, seeking to hear the hear the telltale sounds of the people behind the two-way mirrors that circle the room. The sound of a throat being cleared? Of a sigh of pleasure as her behind is revealed, the humiliation gown opened, the punishment panties pulled down and off, allowing her to separate her legs wider, spread her cheeks further, present herself with her rectum completely exposed?
Or is it a faint cluck of disapproval at the fact that she’s been allowed to wear panties at all.
She keeps her face tilted up to the mirrored wall in front of her, her eyes towards the glass as she’s been taught, trying not to close them as she puts her hands back to her underpants, drawing them down to expose herself to the people behind the mirror at her rear. Keeps her eyes fixed forward as she feels him removing the panties, as she feels him spreading her legs further, exposing everything between them to the unseen eyes behind the glass.
He had her change into the punishment panties early – earlier than usual – and so it’s a relief to get them down finally, for the thick coating of Vicks he smeared in the seat before having her step into them has stung her strapped behind for several hours.
Vicks in the seat of her panties, stinging her behind. In traditional English correction, salted fat was applied across the red scorched bottomcheeks of a schoolgirl in the final stages of punishment in the headmaster’s study. Salted fat, to make the bottom burn; salted fat, after the strapping, while the girl sobbed over the stool. Salted fat on a strapped schoolgirl bottom, before the sodomy that, from the accounts she’s read, were a regular part of the pedagogical punishments of those long-gone times. Salted fat rubbed into the schoolgirl’s scorched bottom to further increase the sting before her rounded cheeks were spread, her tight anus Vaselined and then penetrated. The headmaster behind her thrusting forward, driving the culprit towards the opened window before her with each entry of the rigid organ into her bowels, with each entry between her martyred cheeks.
Driving the poor girl forward towards the opened window, inching forward with each penetration of her bared behind until, finally, she comes to rest with her face at the sill, her nose pressed to the glass, seeing the freedom outside as her behind is repeatedly impaled by her chastiser’s Vaselined cock.
The girl’s nose to the window, much as her nose is near the mirrored walls of the room. Her eyes to the glass, near the eyes on the other side, looking in.
She’s no schoolgirl, but, like those unfortunate young women of that earlier place and time, early that morning she too had her posterior bared for application of the punishment strap.
Woke that morning with a start, hearing his voice, the cold calmness of it, and all that portended. Woke, dressed, and glumly followed him into his study, where he led her to the old wooden school desk he kept there, made her look at it and endure his lecture as he stripped her panties down. And then, as she pleaded with him, bent her forward over the hard wood, her behind up, her panties neatly arranged below her buttocks to leave her sex and anus bared to his view while he got the strap, while he applied it.
And then, when her kicks and cries and pleas for mercy told her chastiser she could bear no more, she waited like that, buttocks raised and spread. Waited for the application of requisite unguent to the seat of her punishment panties and, inevitably, her strap-scorched flesh. Times change, she thinks, but whether Vicks or salt applied to a punished posterior, the effects are much the same.
As she pulls the punishment panties down, she feels the sudden relief of the cold air of the room blowing across her behind, the relief of the sudden absence of the Vicks in the seat of the underpants against chastised flesh. She knows her bottom glows bright red and shiny before the eyes of the watchers; still, she’ll take the mortification of having it exposed to the pain that the panties brings.
And so she lies there, over the stool, her behind bared, the panties down to her knees, her humiliation gown spread open. Waiting, knowing what’s coming next, anticipating it as much as she despises the feelings that the anticipation bring.
He begins the lecture, idly playing with the lace trim on the gown, with the dainty ties in back that she sewed by hand. The gown was her idea, a feminine variation of the plain hospital jonny he once favored; but she had found too late that the lace trim and other delicate adornments only made the basic function of the gown all the more apparent. Humiliation, pure and simply, the humiliation of having to show your behind, of being unable to conceal it. Of wearing a garment designed solely for exposure and accessibility; purposes that no amount of lace or dainty decoration can alter or abate.
He lectures, and the watchers – if they’re there – stare at her behind through the opened gown, at her white cheeks, at the deep crevice between them, at the occasional glimpses of her fear-clenched rectum that her motions over the stool reveal.
His voice rises and falls, but she can’t focus on what he’s saying; she’s too caught up in the humiliation of being observed. Too caught up in the idea of the eyes on her – caught up in it even though the reality of the watchers is unclear.
She’s imagining herself in their position, anonymous behind the mirrors, witnessing her punishment. She imagines staring at the face first, the culprit’s face – her face. Leaning forward to the glass to stare into the eyes, the pupils dilated, the cheeks shot through with shame. Viewing the behind, the cheeks forced apart by the position over the stool, the anus visible, the pussy beneath all too shamefully exposed. She would masturbate if she were watching; are they doing that now?
Consumed with this thought, she wishes her hands were free to rub herself, but he’s told her not to move them. Still, she is able to shift her hips slightly, feeling the hard surface of the stool rubbing her sex as she does so. No substitute for her hands, but the best she can do in the circumstances.
She hopes he doesn’t notice her motions; the penalty for masturbation during correction is a thick coating of Vicks between her legs during the session, and a bare-bottom paddling over his lap every night for the next week.
Holding a ginger suppository high in her bowels as the paddle crimsons her buttocks.
He’s done with the preliminaries now, and its time for the spanking. The first spanking, she corrects herself, the one she’ll get with her bowels empty. The second, of course, will be longer, stretching from the moment he opens the clamp on the enema bag up to the point 10 or 15 minutes later when he finally allows her to sit on the potty chair to expel. The third, during sodomy; the fourth, immediately afterwards, although, once he’s spent, the discipline is usually half-hearted.
She tries not to think about the spankings, and especially about the potty chair and the humiliation she’ll endure when he seats her on it. Her bared red bottom all too visible to the audience, its most menial functions on display for their pleasure and her mortification.
His cock, presented to her mouth as her bottom performs. That though, at least, is almost comforting.
He’s picked up a second strap from the table to his side, longer than the one he’d used in the morning; the instrument of the reformatory, heavy leather that will leave bands of pain across her already burning behind. It descends down without warning, a loud report as it meets the white flesh of her bared buttocks, and the eyes behind mirrors judge the severity of the instrument from the sudden stiffening of the culprit over the stool.
It’s a very Victorian correction: the reformatory strap; an errant young lady over a discipline stool; a strict older man administering the full correction to her exposed behind. In that situation, of course, the watchers would have been other teachers, there to witness the culprit receiving her comeuppance. Or, equally as likely, other students, waiting to undergo the same treatment, knees knocking as they stand watching, skirts pinned up, knickers drawn down, contemplating their own fates. Two or three other girls, perhaps, two or three more bottoms to be dealt with. Two or three more pairs of bare white cheeks waiting for the application of the strap across them, for the insertion of the Vaselined nozzle between them when the Headmaster washes out their spanked behinds.
And, that night, three or four tearful penitents bent over the ends of adjacent beds in their dorm room with their pajamas lowered, for the forced and forceful application of the headmaster’s stiff cock between their red cheeks and into their greased virginal bowels. One by one, as they squirm and cry and plead for mercy, promising, one after another, to be good. The kicking legs and futile promises ending only with the loud injection of sperm deep into each girl’s red tensing posterior.
Put to bed like that, pajamas down, each behind still Vaselined, each behind full of sperm. She knows this will be her fate, sperm in her backside to conclude the session, sperm in backside when she’s led from the room, still in the humiliation gown.
Sperm, deep in backside when she’s taken home and put to bed. Waiting for him to come in and lie with her, rub her, give her release.
Sperm in her backside, after the spankings, after the enemas, after the potty chair. She’s excited by this thought. Knows she’s wet between her legs, knows she’s aroused, despite the pain the strapping brings her.
The discipline that evening is longer than usual.
Everywhere
Threads
This forum
This thread
Humiliated by my mother - may trigger for some
Thread starter
GuyusesMac
Start date
Dec 10, 2013
Status
Not open for further replies.
First I will admit that I have been reading through this site for a couple nights now before I decided to write, and I am really nervous. Even though I went to counseling for a few years, I was just too embarrassed to share this with even my councilor.
It will probably help to know that I am was the only boy in my family, and I had one sister that is 2 years older than me, then two younger sisters that are 3 and 4 years younger than I was. My mom wasn't really sexual with me, but this is more about how screwed up she made my life. My mom seem to always have it in for me, and what made me decided to post this here was because of what she did and maybe there are other people that can relate to this.
My mom doesn't just spank me or ground me like most moms would do, but my mom always seem to be out to embarrass me somehow. I remember that when I was a young child I was not allowed to lock the bathroom door when I took a bath, and I remember my older sister and female cousin coming in and staring at me an laughing while I was naked. I would scream and holler for my mom, but she never came, and eventually my sister and cousin would leave. Of course after my bath I went to my mom and aunt to tell them what happen, but they just laughed and thought it was funny.
This went on every time my cousin came over, and as much as I begged my mom and told her what kept happening, she just acted like it was no big deal and would still not allow me to lock the door. I remember when I was a little older, that I didn't even bother to ask, I just went and took my shower and locked the door. My sister must have tried to come in and found out the door was locked because the next thing I know my mom is pounding on the door demanding that I unlock the door. Of course I didn't want any more of a punishment, so I had to do so, and i imagine it was only a minute or two later that my sister and cousin came in, pulled back the curtain and began gawking and laughing again.
I thought turn around was fare play, but when I tried to walk in on my sister and cousin, the door was locked and yet when I told my mom about this, her attitude was that they were girls and they need their privacy. I get so upset just thinking about this, and that someone how it was perfectly fine for them to have their privacy, but my was almost laughed at.
The other way my mom would punish me was by spanking me, however she always did this by making me pull down my pants and underwear before proceeding to spank me. I understand that a number of kids got spanked on their bare butts, but my mom would do this right in front of everyone. I will never forget that one time when my cousin was over that I was playing with her and my sister in my sister's bedroom, and I don't remember exactly what happen but I remember my sister and I getting into a fight and my mom came up the stairs yelling and very pissed off. When she got into the bedroom, my sister started telling my mom some story about how I started the fight, and right there in my sister's room, in front of both my sister and my cousin, my mom stripped my pants and my underwear down and started spanking me right in front of them. It wasn't bad enough to get a spanking right in front of them, but to almost be stripped naked while they watched is something that still makes me sick to my stomach all these years later.
I also recall one time getting a spanking in front of my whole family. I don't even recall what it was over, but I remember my mom yanking me up right in the middle of my family room and in front of my three sisters and my dad, and my mom made me pulldown my own pants for a spanking. I recall her yelling at me to pull my underwear down, but I was embarrassed and I just froze. I was scared but also so embarrassed at the same time, that I didn't know what to do and just froze. She kept yelling at me to pull them down, but I couldn't, and I think that just pissed her off more, then she yanked them down and began to spank the hell out of me. I remember being highly embarrassed and trying to face toward the wall so that I only had to expose my butt to my sisters, but my mom grabbed my arm and just began to blister my butt so hard that I couldn't stand still. I tried for the longest time to keep my other hand covering my private parts, but she just kept swinging until finally I couldn't stand it any longer and moved my hand around to try to stop from being hit by the belt. I was jumping around in a circle trying to avoid each swing of the belt, but my mom just kept blistering me until there was no doubt that everyone got to see every private part of me.
The worse time however was when my sister was having a party. I think it was my sisters 12th birthday and had a number of girls over for her birthday party, and of course like most boys, I had a crush on a few of them, and always wanted to hang out with them. But my sister didn't like this and began yelling to my mom about how I was bugging all the girls. My mom didn't spank me right there in front of all of my sisters friend but took me into the living room which was just around the corner, then began yelling at me to pull down my pants and underwear, which of course she fallowed with a spanking. Of course I don't think any of the girls saw this, but it was so embarrassing to know that my sister and all of her friends where in the very next room hearing me take this spanking. I know this is probably just my hang up, but it was so embarrassing to think that they new I was in the next room pretty much naked getting a spanking.
I get so angry when I think about this. I am not trying to say I was a perfect boy, but really what was she thinking be spanking me in the living room. Why couldn't she just have takin me to my bedroom, other than she wanted to humiliate me.
It wasn't that my sisters never got a spanking, but it seem like when they got their spankings, they were always allowed to get it in their bedroom. I never recall any of my sisters having to strip down in front of the family. I honestly think my mother did this to just me to make it worse on me and embarrass me.
This all kept going on until the year when I turned 13. The most embarrassing time however was when we were all setting in the family room watching TV and my mom asked me right in front of everyone if I was starting to get hair on my penis. Of course I was embarrassed to answer her, but she just kept going until she got a yes out of me. I think again she was just trying to humiliate me. I even recall her kind of getting a grin from this. I think she just thought this was funny. Then next she proceeds to tell me how when guys hit puberty that they have to be examined regularly or something can go wrong with your testicles and you won't be able to have a family some day. Then right there in the family room she wanted me to pull down my pants so that she could check me to see if everything was okay.
My dad didn't often step in to make her stop this sort of thing, but I begged my dad to help, and he finally agreed and told my mom to knock it off. Of course however she would not stop, so my dad finally told her to take me into me bedroom and check things, for which she got up to do so.
It was so humiliating to me that right there in front of all three of my sisters that my mom was talking to me about this, and that my sisters knew I was being taken down the hall to my bedroom so that my mom could make me drop my pants and expect everything. I can only imagine that if my dad was telling my sisters that they had to go down the hallway to strip so that he could put his fingers in their vagina's that they would be just as embarrassed.
Then once i
Prague Pornstar Escort
Backpage Paris Massage
Backpage Com Spacecoast