Spanked Erection

Spanked Erection
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 nine or 10, I was something of a brat – but my mom hadn’t spanked me in a couple of years. Then one day, something happened to change all that!
I was playing in the front yard with my friend Cheryl and my mother was talking to our next door neighbour. A young woman was walking down the street with her little boy. She stopped to chat with them and the little boy, who was about four or five, wandered around the yard.
As his mother was talking, the boy decided to relieve himself. He dropped his pants and happily urinated against the side of our house.
His mother was horrified, and ran over and grabbed him. She dragged him over to our front steps, sat down, pulled him across her lap and proceeded to administer a good, hard spanking.
The boy’s pants were yanked down around his knees. She held him on her lap and soundly spanked his blushingly bare bottom right in front of us all. He screamed and kicked wildly, losing a shoe in the process. She grabbed his flailing hands and pinned them behind his back and continued the punishment.
I watched in utter fascination as his bare buttocks jiggled under the blows from her indignant palm and grew redder and redder. He screamed ‘no, mommy, no!’ over and over, and cried loudly.
Watching breathlessly, I found myself becoming excited, wanting it to go on and on, but all too soon it was over. She stood him up, pulled up his pants and made him apologise to us. Then she left, dragging the still crying child with her, loudly promising him another spanking with her hairbrush when they got home.
I was shocked and deeply aroused by what I had seen. I became aware, as I watched the spanking, of a deep desire to be shamefully punished, just like that, by my own mother. I thought about laying across Mom’s ample lap with my pants around my knees, being thoroughly spanked on my little bare bottom.
My mother looked strangely at me and I could swear that she was reading my thoughts at that very moment. I blushed deeply at the thought, and at the realisation that I had sprouted an erection.
The neighbour left and Cheryl went home soon after and I went inside with Mom. She looked knowingly at me and commented about the boy’s spanking, and how I seemed rather impressed by the example his mother had made of him. She added that maybe I would benefit from some real old-fashioned discipline. I found myself agreeing with her, almost as though someone else was speaking for me.
Her eyes widened in surprise and I blushed furiously again, horrified at what I had just blurted out. Unbidden, an image of a pants-down shellacking over her knee came into my mind and I began to get a hard-on. As I turned away in embarrassment, Mom remarked that she might have to put me over her knee if my behaviour didn’t improve.
I was rather subdued for the next few days. Mom probably thought it was because I was afraid of being spanked, when in fact it was my increasingly-obsessive desire to be spanked that occupied my thoughts. I wanted a good, long, hard, sweaty, noisy, bare-bottomed spanking over her knee with all the kicking, screaming and carrying on that we both could muster!
About a week later, I finally got my wish. I had gotten quite bratty again and she warned me about my behaviour, but I ignored her. She finally got fed up and decided to use the method that worked so well for that young mother on me. She told me that I was going to get a spanking I would never forget – and she was right!
Grabbing me by the arm, she marched me upstairs to her bedroom and sat down on the bed. She undid my belt and took down my jeans, then pulled me across her lap. I was excited and fearful at once, and I immediately got an erection. As she pulled down my underpants, the waistband caught on my burgeoning little hard-on and I had to squirm a bit to free it so she could get them down to my knees.
“You’ve been asking for this for a long time, young man!” she said as I wriggled on her lap in anticipation.
She got a good grip on me and began the spanking, smacking my childishly bared buttocks with her firm hand. I instinctively tried to protect my butt with my hands and she grabbed my wrists and held them together.
She spanked me harder, slapping each tender cheek slowly and deliberately. It hurt more than I remembered and I began to yell and squirm. “Ow! Ow! Mom! Don’t!” I cried, but she kept on spanking me. I started sobbing. “Mama! No! Mama! MAMA!”
Soon I was conscious of a pleasurable feeling in front as well as the burning pain in my rear, as the spanking continued. My penis was rubbing against her lap as I squirmed and protested and the stinging smacks that were landing on my bottom were no longer unpleasant.
Her dressing table was across from the bed and I could see us both in the mirror. I watched as my mother spanked my bare behind to a deep, rosy red.
Like the other spanking, it was over much too soon for me. She rubbed my burning bottom gently and lectured me on my bad behaviour, occasionally smacking one cheek or the other for emphasis.
“Yes Mama,” I said. “I’ll be good!” As she talked, I tearfully apologised – punctuated by yelps of pain as she continued to spank me sporadically. Finally, she stood me up and told me to go stand in the corner. I pulled up my pants, turning away so she wouldn’t see my erection.
Mom grabbed me, led me to the corner, and tugged my pants down again, telling me to leave my spanked bottom exposed until she said I could go. Still sniffling, I stood there, rubbing my burning behind and savouring the memory of my mother’s loving discipline.
That was the first of many wonderful spankings that I would enjoy in the next few years. I can still see in the mirror an utterly defeated young boy, a spoiled brat getting a richly deserved (and sincerely desired) comeuppance.
My pants are down and my underpants are bunched at my knees. My naughty little bare butt has been royally reddened, both cheeks bearing the imprint of Mom’s firm right hand. I am smarting from an old-fashioned humiliating spanking over my mother’s knee.
She was right about it being a spanking I’d never forget. I don’t know if Mom really read my mind that day but I’m awfully glad that she turned me over her knee and spanked my bare bottom, just like that little boy!
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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.

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 am a UK-based father of three boys, and regularly smacked their bottoms when they were growing up. While I always had a genuine reason for smacking them, such as disobedience or lying, when the opportunity did arise to dish out corporal punishment, I must admit that I enjoyed the experience.
Of course, I would say all the things many parents tend to say their child in such circumstances, such as ‘this hurts me more than it hurts you’ or (a personal favourite) ‘do you think Daddy likes having to smack your bottom?’
There was always something so beautifully innocent about the instant tears of shame that particular question was able to trigger – the boy clearly believing that I was upset to be smacking him, his childish display of guilt and remorse. All this just deepened the thrill for me.
I have read many of the stories on your website and suspect that I am something of an anomaly. While many of your contributors say they’ve loved all things about spanking since they were themselves young children or teenagers, I had no interest in corporal punishment (certainly, none that I was aware of) until I became a father. Indeed, I remained unaware of thos interest until I actually smacked my eldest son for the first time – and I was honestly gobsmacked at the effect it had on me.
Simon was around two and a half when he first felt my hand across his bottom. My wife Polly and I had agreed prior to his birth (with that characteristic naive optimism of first-time parents) that spanking was old-fashioned and unnecessary; in fact, frankly, we felt that it was cruel and barbaric.
Then Simon entered the ‘terrible twos’ and we very quickly began to reconsider our views! Public tantrums, biting other children at nursery and throwing food from his plate were just some of the problems we had to contend with. We tried to explain to Simon what was wrong with his behaviour; we tried to ignore the naughty behaviour and reward the good; we even tried a ‘Supernanny’-style naughty step. Of course, none of these things worked!
We were at our wits’ end with him, when one day he bit Polly’s wrist and she instinctively grabbed him and slapped the back of his thighs three or four times. Immediately following the punishment Polly was utterly distraught – but then, as we saw the improvement it had on Simon’s behaviour in the days that followed, we began to realise that a smacked bottom or legs might be the answer to our prayers.
Even after witnessing this event, I still felt no arousal about spanking. However, a few weeks later I had what can only be described as an awakening. Polly was away for the weekend with an old university friend, and Simon and I were at home alone.
He had been acting up all day, clearly taking advantage of Mummy’s absence. Simon hadn’t been spanked since the incident with Polly a few weeks previously – but when I caught him out of bed and using a kitchen chair to climb onto the worktops, I knew I had to act. I lifted him from the kitchen counter and immediately he began to scream and squirm, and then managed to kick me hard in the stomach.
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.
As soon as I heard the cracking slap sound of my hand meeting his bot, followed immediately by his deep crying and unsuccessful straining to get up from my lap, it just felt right . It felt so natural, so instinctive to be punishing my boy this way, using the same method that had been used on countless generations of children.
I gave Simon another three or four hard smacks, turning his little bare bottom from white to pink. When I stood him up, I felt my penis hardening at the sight of his bright red face, tears and snot streaming down it, as he cried heartily.
I drank it in for a few seconds, feeling utterly confused by the effect it was having on me, before coming to my senses, pulling up Simon’s pyjama trousers and ordering him straight to bed. He didn’t have to be told twice, and ran from the room with both hands down the back of his trousers, trying to rub the sting out of his sore little bottom.
I sat for a few seconds, feeling confused and shocked at the reaction I’d had to this punishment. As I say, spanking was not something that had ever even registered on my sexual radar with either my wife or former girlfriends, let alone with my own son. I listened to Simon crying loudly in his bedroom, and thought about how I was the one who had brought about those tears, who had tanned his little bottom, who had lowered his trousers and pinned him across my lap.
By this time, my erection was straining against the fabric of my trousers and I stumbled from the kitchen to the bathroom, dropped my pants, grabbed a handful of lotion and within seconds had shot a massive load of semen into the toilet.
I was utterly gobsmacked by what had happened. I sheepishly cleaned up, washed my hands and left the room, trying to convince myself that it must be down to missing Polly. But later that night, I again thought of all that had happened with Simon, and again had to relieve myself. I know I should pretend I felt ashamed of what had happened, but honestly I simply felt more confused than anything.
The next day, Simon was as good as gold and clearly the smacked bottom had achieved the desired effect on my young son – as well as the surprising effect it had had on his dad!
When Polly returned later that night, I told her about the change in Simon’s behaviour following the smacked bottom he had received, and we agreed that we would no longer hesitate to spank when necessary.
Children of that age need a lot of discipline and between Polly and myself, Simon must have received a sore bottom roughly every week around that time. In the evenings after Simon had been tanned, Polly and I would make incredibly passionate love. Often Polly would initiate this herself, so I suspect that she too got a certain something from watching me smack our son, or doing it herself.
We have never had a discussion about this, but this pattern continued after our other two boys arrived and began going over Mummy or Daddy’s knee for discipline. Harry, our second boy, was conceived during a passionate post-spanking lovemaking session, so he owes his life to Simon’s naughtiness! I can’t be sure about James, our youngest, but no doubt his naughty big brothers contributed to his own conception.
I suspect that the reaction Polly and I experienced from spanking the boys’ bottoms is actually far more common than most people would dare to admit. I still don’t think of myself as a spanking fetishist, as I only enjoyed the experience in the context of my own sons being disciplined. I’m unsure about Polly – as I say, I don’t think it’s a conversation we will ever have – but certainly she has never shown any interest in spanking in the marital bed, for example.
Finally, I must make it perfectly clear that neither of us ever acted inappropriately with the boys. As I said at the start, they only received smacked bottoms when they had thoroughly earned them. I guess the way we saw it was, we were raising three polite, obedient and respectful little boys – and if Mummy and Daddy had some fun in the process, then so be it.
You must be logged in to post a comment.
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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After surgery nurse had inspect nude me. 10” erection. Well a woman could see in. She just smiled & watched. I’ve had an erection for over 5 hrs now. Jerked off twice. Still hard.

I spent over an hour masturbating before I realized a roommate was watching me. She was peaking into my room. I was so close to finishing I just let her watch the finale. My thing is fat; and over 11 inches, so I guess it’s a big show.
She asked me why my pink head is so big one day. Women always like looking at it for some reason. I guess they just don’t see ones that big very often.
She says her boyfriends is only 5 inches. Is that possible? Mines that big soft.

I used to let women see me nude. Most women like how I look. They will smile or look lustful. Only the most attractive usually have to confidence to hit on me. So I used to let them see me nude if they wanted. They were very happy to see my massive muscular body and giant election with long term elections matched my movie star type face that still hasn’t wrinkled. They’d even pay to see me nude.
But there was a price to pay. A childhood of forced nudity; being molested, and rape.
I tried to shame women sneaking peaks at me (violating my privacy); whether it was my older sisters friends or whomever, but that didn’t work. In society people don’t seem to think men should be modest.
I’m all messed up. I’m too old to get over it.
At least I never treated others the way I was treated. In life we choose. I chose to be kind to others even though kindness was not shown to me growing up.

For two years now my stepfather and I have been close and done almost ever
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