Spanked for the very first time: Spanked in a Public Place (Spanked first time Book 7)

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The tawse was the worst as it was delivered with the same force as the cane but only seemed to cause lingering pain in one place. This was a similar feeling to having fallen very heavily onto a garden gnome wearing a cone shaped hat. It maybe that only one corner of the tawse is ‘making an impression’ and that is what is producing a weird slightly ‘unpunished’ feeling as, apart from the one small area on my right bottom cheek, the rest of my bottom was pain free. My heart hurts for what you have been through. The way you were treated was deliberate shaming and very abusive. It doesn't surprise me you are struggling with all this now. I’m sorry, dear,” I said, “perhaps you should identify what it is you would like me to take on, and I’ll try to do a better job of it.” I guess I want to say that there is a choice, at least to some degree, of what you think and feel. Their purpose being to humilliate you and your decision not be humilliated. (you could decide to be angry, for example). My parents, to this day, believe that nudity and humiliation were part of breaking my will of disobedience. To ask them, they'd do it all the same again.

I’m not your mother, John, and that tradition played no part in my upbringing. For that matter, did your mother spank you when you were little?” A discussion area specifically for survivors who suffered physical, emotional, and verbal child abuse. This forum can also be used for Members who suffered sexual abuse at the time of physical, emotional and verbal abuse. Nothing specific, dear, but your attitude has been slipping of late, and it is best to nip these things in the bud. Besides, it has been almost a month, and a little reminder now and then is always a good idea.” When I returned to the sewing room, Doris was seated in the chair and indicated I should place the bag on the floor, within easy reach, at her left side. Taking my wrist, she guided me to stand to her right.I left my bag in the living room when I arrived this evening. Trot off like a good boy and get it for me, please. Don’t dawdle, I am not a patient woman.” She’s coming here? Tonight?” I blurted, taken by surprise at the pace this was developing. “I’ve never even met this person, and you are going to let her spank me? Shouldn’t we discuss this first? Give me a chance to get used to the idea? I mean, a complete stranger…” I have major issues with my body. I am, even at my age with 3 kids, in pretty good shape. I was always skinny and athletic. I always had bigger than average boobs and a sexy, curvy butt. My husband adores my body and has never said anything otherwise. The problem is that I feel a deep, deep shame when it comes to my body. I think it was because my parents used nudity as punishment.

Oh good, I thought, Evelyn has gotten her two cents in as well. “I’m not that bad,” I protested. “Just a little thoughtless now and then, I suppose.” This is my first blog, and indeed blog entry, on the subject of the punishments I receive for being a less than obedient and well behaved wife! This blog was given to me, by my husband, as part of any punishments I receive.One of my all-time favorites: Jessica Alba in The Killer Inside. This is as good as non-consensual spankings get. Smoking hot, so very full of herself, she gets thrown on the bed, her panties ripped down, and then she gets a very real whipping on her bare ass with a belt. Again, acting, of course. But no true spanking enthusiast can deny, this is a wonderful scene. Imagine if this weren’t

I couldn’t decide whether this was sounding worse and worse, or better and better. The idea Evelyn knew I was into being spanked—she and my wife discussed it over lunch—was terrifying (even though it did play into my kinkier fantasies). While the idea a young lady might take me over her knee and spank me was more attractive than I wanted to admit. I got to my feet and practically jumped to the corner. The temptation to rub my bruised flesh was almost irresistible, but I managed to keep my hands clenched tightly at my sides. I stood in the corner for the next twenty minutes, although it seemed much longer, alternately quaking in apprehension and fighting down arousal. This scene came directly from my fantasy life. I was afraid reality would be more intense than fantasy, and I did not want to display the depth of my arousal by sporting a raging member to my wife when she (or Doris) told me to turn around. Somehow, I was certain they would not be in the least bit amused by such a display. For many of us, this would be a Be Careful What You Wish For tale. But based on your input to Erin-8-Homecoming, I understand this comment. Anyone who would volunteer their bottom for testing an over-the-top long-handled brush…

You are a naughty, willful man, but I know just how to handle your kind. Prepare to learn a much-needed lesson.” I'm sorry for what happened to you, the way your parents treated you. It makes sense that their treatment of you would lead you to struggle with body image. Good on you for recognising this. Have you thought on what you could do to help with your body image struggles? My characters write much of my stories, and what I especially like about this one is how eloquent Marianne can be with her lips and a pair of crochet hooks. Throughout the following week, I tried almost constantly to convince Marrianne we no longer needed Doris’ services. I tried reason, demonstrations of a reformed character, assertion of my rights of authority as the husband, desperate and abject pleading. My wife met all of these with a calm, satisfied silence (although when I was most insistent, there was a distinct compression of the lips).

Spanking had been on my mind a lot, though, and on that fateful day a year ago in August, I got up the courage to suggest to Marrianne she might want to give me a good, sound birthday spanking that year. Let me up. You can’t do this to me,” I protested. Doris then proceeded to demonstrate she could, in fact, do it to me, and she could do it with considerable effect, and do it for as long as she wished. I suddenly felt an urgent need to go to the bathroom which I did, then took a shower, taking special care to clean around my nether regions—that area I feared would be under very intense and personal inspection by a young woman whom I had yet to meet. I was anxious and somewhat aroused as the jets of hot water played over my body, but to be truthful, I was more anxious than aroused. Despite my years of imagining, I was never actually spanked. Of course, it would hurt. Spanking wouldn’t be punishment if it didn’t hurt, but would it hurt a lot? I’m not into pain. I’ve never deliberately hit my thumb with a hammer, for example, and on those occasions I did it by accident, I did not enjoy it in the least. I see you are wearing your slippers, even though I told you to just wear your robe. Why don’t you take them off and put them in that corner out of the way,” she said, putting down her work and pointing the way. “One thing I have asked Doris to work on with you is your inability to follow directions. While you are at it, put your nose in the corner as well. I’ve read that is a good place for a naughty boy, or naughty man in this case, to wait for his spanking.” No, no, I haven’t forgotten. I thought the topic was just between the two of us. It never occurred to me you might tell someone else. It would be humiliating if any of our friends or business associates should find out you spanked me.”Several times during this ordeal, I pleaded with my wife to call a halt, to save me from this punishment. Marrianne continued to work on her blanket, and through my tear-clouded vision I saw no outward indication she was even aware of my presence. I saw Marrianne’s lips compress, the way they do when she is irritated. Then she said, “There is no reason to put it off any longer, John. You said yourself you needed this form of discipline, and I agree with you. I’ve committed considerable time and effort in arranging this with Doris, and I’m confident she can do the job. Now why don’t you go take a shower, put on just your robe, then come to my sewing room. I want to complete the baby blanket I’ve been crocheting in time for Barbara’s baby shower. When I finally got out of the shower, I saw Marrianne had hung my bathrobe on the hook inside the bathroom door. I suddenly needed to use the toilet again.