M M Spanking

M M Spanking
Выбрать язык русский азербайджанский аймара албанский амхарский арабский армянский ассамский африкаанс бамбара баскский белорусский бенгальский бирманский болгарский боснийский бходжпури валлийский венгерский вьетнамский гавайский галисийский греческий грузинский гуарани гуджарати датский догри зулу иврит игбо идиш илоканский индонезийский ирландский исландский испанский итальянский йоруба казахский каннада каталанский кечуа киргизский китайский (традиционный) китайский (упрощенный) конкани корейский корсиканский коса креольский (гаити) крио курдский (курманджи) курдский (сорани) кхмерский лаосский латинский латышский лингала литовский луганда люксембургский майтхили македонский малагасийский малайский малаялам мальдивский мальтийский маори маратхи мейтейлон (манипури) мизо монгольский немецкий непальский нидерландский норвежский ория оромо панджаби персидский польский португальский пушту руанда румынский самоанский санскрит себуанский сепеди сербский сесото сингальский синдхи словацкий словенский сомалийский суахили сунданский таджикский тайский тамильский татарский телугу тигринья тсонга турецкий туркменский узбекский уйгурский украинский урду филиппинский финский французский фризский хауса хинди хмонг хорватский чви чева чешский шведский шона шотландский (гэльский) эве эсперанто эстонский яванский японский
I’ll always remember the last spanking I got while living at home – it was exactly three days before I left home for college!
A couple of weeks earlier, my mom had told me to go through my closet and box up all the old clothes I wasn’t taking with me. She reminded me about this several times over a couple of weeks but I kept putting it off.
Three days before I was leaving, Mom said she wanted the task done by the time she got home from work that day. I started sorting my clothes as requested – but then a friend called and asked me if I wanted to go to the pool. No prizes for guessing what I chose.
Mom was already home by the time I got back, and she was not happy at all. To cut long story short, we got into a huge argument, I smarted off and told her to get off my back. Then I stormed off to my room.
As I was changing out of my wet swim clothes, Mom came in with the family paddle in her hand. I started arguing again, but Mom said I was acting like a child and needed a spanking.
I suppose I could have resisted more, but in the end I thought it best to just bend over and take my licks. Mom usually didn’t spank me naked but since I was already undressed, she did.
I think she knew that this would be the last time she spanked me, so she put a little extra oomph into every spank and gave me significantly more swats than she usually did during my childhood.
In fact, she walloped me so well, I actually cried – something I never usually did during a spanking, even when I was a little boy.
All Maman stories are copyright, unauthorised reproduction may lead to legal action.
Maman is an adult website containing recollections of corporal punishment experienced during the contributors' childhoods. By proceeding, you are asserting that you are over the age of majority for the country in which you reside, and you further agree to the use of cookies on this website. Note that although this website contains only legal content, Maman is nevertheless a fetish site and should be considered Not Safe For Work (NSFW). Maman does not advocate corporal punishment for today's children. If you are a minor or likely to be upset by the subject matter, please do not proceed any further.

Выбрать язык русский азербайджанский аймара албанский амхарский арабский армянский ассамский африкаанс бамбара баскский белорусский бенгальский бирманский болгарский боснийский бходжпури валлийский венгерский вьетнамский гавайский галисийский греческий грузинский гуарани гуджарати датский догри зулу иврит игбо идиш илоканский индонезийский ирландский исландский испанский итальянский йоруба казахский каннада каталанский кечуа киргизский китайский (традиционный) китайский (упрощенный) конкани корейский корсиканский коса креольский (гаити) крио курдский (курманджи) курдский (сорани) кхмерский лаосский латинский латышский лингала литовский луганда люксембургский майтхили македонский малагасийский малайский малаялам мальдивский мальтийский маори маратхи мейтейлон (манипури) мизо монгольский немецкий непальский нидерландский норвежский ория оромо панджаби персидский польский португальский пушту руанда румынский самоанский санскрит себуанский сепеди сербский сесото сингальский синдхи словацкий словенский сомалийский суахили сунданский таджикский тайский тамильский татарский телугу тигринья тсонга турецкий туркменский узбекский уйгурский украинский урду филиппинский финский французский фризский хауса хинди хмонг хорватский чви чева чешский шведский шона шотландский (гэльский) эве эсперанто эстонский яванский японский
When I was growing up, there was one punishment worse than a spanking. It was reserved for the pet peeve of my mother – if she heard a bad word come out of any of her children, the culprit was in for an old-fashioned mouth washing. These were a threat until I moved out of the house, when I turned 18.
The last one I received at home was when I was 17. No matter how old or young culprit, the procedure was always the same. It started when I came home from school. Normally, the second I walked in the door, I was on the phone with one of my friends. My mother usually worked until 5pm so I usually had a few hours home alone with my brother and sister.
But this day, my mother came home early and heard me say the F-word to one of my girlfriends over the phone. All she had to do was look at me and I knew what to expect. I immediately hung up the phone and she announced as she had many times before that she needed to ‘see me after dinner in the bathroom’. My heart stopped when I heard those words but I knew that any protest would be meaningless.
I sat quietly through dinner and hardly touched my food. At the conclusion of the meal, Mother again reminded me to meet her in the bathroom when the dishes were cleaned up. My face turned bright red as now my brother and sister knew what was about to happen. I gathered my nerve and walked up to my mother’s bathroom.
There, I found the punishment materials already laid out on the counter. A neatly folded white washcloth sat next to the sink. On it was placed a small bar of soap, like the ones found in hotels and motels. I put the lid down on the toilet and sat down. Tears began to fill my eyes, as all I could do was stare at the counter and the punishment tools.
While it seemed like hours had past (actually more like 15 minutes), my mother walked in the bathroom and closed and locked the door behind her. “Alright Ericka, off with your blouse. No need to get it wet, now, is there?” she asked rhetorically. As I took off my blouse and hung it on a hook, my mother began to run hot water in the sink and slowly peeled the wrapper off the little bar of soap.
As I sat back down on the toilet seat, I began to sob, knowing what was about to take place. I sat mesmerised as my mother wetted the washcloth in the hot water and began to work up a good lather with the small bar of soap. When she was satisfied that the cloth was well prepared, she called me over to the sink. I stood before her, trembling in my bra, with tears running down my face. A very meek ‘no’ rolled past my lips as I watched her pick up the small, gooey bar of soap.
“Open up!” she commanded, as I felt her grab a handful of hair to hold my head still. With her other hand she pushed the tiny bar of soap into my mouth in a well-practiced motion. Instantly, the horrible taste of the soap filled my mouth as more tears rolled down my cheeks. “Now chew it all!” she shouted at me, giving my hair a tug to emphasise her point.
As I chewed the horrible little bar, the terrible taste of the soap intensified. Several times I almost gagged as I chewed the soap up into smaller and smaller pieces. When my Mother was satisfied that the bar had been thoroughly chewed, she picked up the soapy washcloth and began shoving it into my mouth, almost like a gag. The effect greatly intensified the putrid taste of the soap.
“Now start counting slowly, my dear!” she said, and in very muffled tones I started counting from one to 100. As I counted, I drooled bubbles down my cheek and onto my breasts, soaking my bra. I also gagged several times on the horrible taste of the soap but was careful not to lose count. Tears rolled down my cheeks, but my pitiful looks didn’t have any effect on mother.
Finally, I mumbled 100 and she mercifully pulled the washcloth from my mouth. She quickly pushed my head into the sink and told me to spit. That command was hardly needed as, in a very unladylike fashion, I began to spit out as much of the soap as I could. After about two minutes, she pulled my head upward and told me to get my blouse.
Turning, she unlocked the door as the sounds of my brother and sister scurrying down the hall could be clearly heard. Not letting me put my blouse back on, she grabbed me by the arm and escorted me to my room. There she watched as I put on my nightgown and got into bed.
“You may not leave your room until midnight – is that understood?” she said. “Yes mother,” I replied in a very small voice. She turned off the light and closed the door.
I waited for a few minutes, then grabbed the wastebasket and began spitting again, trying to rid my mouth of the horrible taste. The soap coated my teeth and resisted every effort to remove it. I once smuggled a toothbrush in my room but using it only resulted in a huge mouth of bubbles, aggravating the problem and taste. There was no way to avoid swallowing some soap, and my stomach churned and cramped as the soap did its worst.
About 11pm, I finally fell asleep, still tasting soap as I dozed off. It was about 3am when I awoke with a horrible tummy ache. Still half asleep, I ran to the bathroom, where my bowels erupted the minute I sat down from the powerful laxative action of the soap. Before the alarm went off at 6am, I had made several other mad dashes to the toilet.
That morning I dressed and brushed my teeth several times with mint flavored toothpaste in an attempt to remove the still-present taste of soap from my mouth. When I walked into the kitchen for breakfast, my mother walked up and gave me a big hug and kiss and told me how sorry she was for having to punish me. With tears in my eyes, I apologised for using foul language and promised to clean up my act in the future.
To this day, I cannot remember the last time I swore or heard a foul word from my brother or sister. Mother would be proud to see the way we turned out.
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All Maman stories are copyright, unauthorised reproduction may lead to legal action.
Maman is an adult website containing recollections of corporal punishment experienced during the contributors' childhoods. By proceeding, you are asserting that you are over the age of majority for the country in which you reside, and you further agree to the use of cookies on this website. Note that although this website contains only legal content, Maman is nevertheless a fetish site and should be considered Not Safe For Work (NSFW). Maman does not advocate corporal punishment for today's children. If you are a minor or likely to be upset by the subject matter, please do not proceed any further.

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When I was about 18 or so, I had a deep desiree to be spanked by a woman. My mother had never given me more than a scolding and was unaware of how I felt. But non the less I aproached her and told her how I felt, and blushingly asked her to give me a bare bottom spanking over her knees. She was surprised to say the least, but listened to me and we talked about my desiree. She told me if I wanted to feel what a spanking felt like, she would give me one. But she would be the one deciding how hard and long she would spank me. I agree and felt my mother taking my hand and leading me to her bedroom. She pulled a chair out, grabbed her wooden hairbrush and sat down. I was embarrassed when my mother unbuttoned me jeans and pulled them and my underpants down to my ankles and told me to bend over knees Red in the face from embarrassment I did as she told me to and was laying across my mothers knees about to get a bare bottom spanking with her hairbrush. And then she gave me a long hard spanking that left me crying real tears and kicking me legs in pain and desperation. My mother was determined to make sure I got what I see ked and used her wooden hairbrush very effeciently. I was so embarrassed when my mother stopped spanking me and told me to stand. She then led me to a corner of her bedroom and told me to stand there with my red bottom on display. I had grotten the first spanking of my life and was hooked for life. Now my wife is the woman that spanks me when I feel Ineed to be punished or behave like a naughty little boy.

Bro i am about to get a spanking this week from my mother because i hid her panties and now she will spank me tomorrow and im so excited about it

I save online pictures of older girls having their naughty bare bottoms soundly spanked over-the-knee. My faves are ones where the girl's backside and thighs are framed by clothing. Her saucy, round bottom attracts all my attention as palm, hairbrush, paddle or strap teaches her she always has the choice: she can either BEHAVE OR BE SPANKED!

I do not understand why guys ask for this , I still get it and trust me it’s no laughing matter

I was 15 and came home drunk. The next day my mom was mad and said if I was younger I wouldn't be able to sit right now. About an hour later she said my butt should be red right now. a little while later she said it again, consider yourself lucky you can sit. I knew I really deserved a spanking and in my way wanted one. So I went and got the hairbrush. She looked at it and said you will be sorry. I said I know, just do it. She said alright, pulled the chair she was sitting on into the center of the kitchen and said get those pants down. I wanted the full experience so I also took my underwear down and before she could say anything put myself over her knee. It didn't take long to regret this but I stayed over her knee even tho I could have gotten up. I definitely got the spanking I deserved and wanted

At age 14, I should've been turned over my mother's knee with my pants pulled down for a good, sound, bare bottom spanking.

I was turned over my mother's knee, and the next door neighbor's knee, with my pants pulled down, exposing my bare bottom for a good, sound spanking. It always made me so hard and I always masturbated later.

That took some courage to ask Mum for that spanking. I think she was right to indulge you on this, and give your bare bottom such a good tanning with her hairbrush. Quite right she should determine how soundly you were spanked. This was a once in a life spanking from her, and only right it should be remembered.

I LOVE watching the Strictmoor Academy spankings on SpankBang videos. They're so good at showing older schoolgirls (college age) having their naughty bottoms bared and soundly spanked over the lap of female adult authority. It's sooooo satisfying hearing "bare bottom spanking" being said so often, along with such wonderful views of the sorry girls' barenaked bumcheeks being smacked and paddled to a stinging rosy red. Those spankings have a wicked way of making me all squirmy in my underpants. They make me think of the over-the-knee, bare bottom spankings I should've been given by my mum.

If she spanked you at 18 in her bedroom, why on earth wouldn't she have sat on her bed instead of a chair??

Possibly the height of the bed might have been too high for his mother to administer the spanking comfortably, with her son across her knee,.

You’re lucky your mom was so understanding and willing to accommodate your needs. She did the right thing in making it a real spanking with all the classic elements: bare bottom, over the knee, and with a hairbrush.

Yes, mum says “it’s not your pants that are in trouble it’s you young man”

Meaning it's your bottom that needs to be bared for the good, sound spanking across her knee which you so richly deserve.

Yea thanks for that muppet it’s bad enough it happens without u laughing

Tsk tsk tsk, shame shame, everybody knows your name.

It is strange how many of us guys like the maternal spanking. I now get it from my mother-in-law. She gives me strappings that my mother just would not do. 200, 300 or more. Still wish it was my mother strapping my bare behind. Dumb fetish.

My wife knows that I was spanked as a child growing up. Any misbehavior resulted in a bare bottom spanking across mother's knees. One time my wife mentioned how I had a bad habit of throwing my dirty clothes in the corner and not using the hamper. My mother explained how she always got me to behave by administering a sound spanking. As we left my mother handed my wife a leather strap we had for 'extremely bad behavior". Well about a week or so later, I came home very late without calling my wife. She was extremely upset with me and ordered me into the bedroom. She had me strip naked and lay across the bed. She proceeded to use the strap on me until I was begging for forgiveness. Since that time, whenever I misbehave I can expect a spanking and or strapping.

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