In my fantasy, it was exciting, arousing, sexy…appealing. I wasn’t feeling
aroused or sexy now. Just afraid - terrified, actually, as I started to
comprehend how much this was going to hurt. It hardly seemed possible that the
paddle could hurt so much.
I felt the sting, the incredible sting, of the paddle’s bite as it repeatedly
made contact with my bottom. Over and over, one cheek to the another and then
low-center - my ‘sit spot’ as I’d seen it called on the internet.
I guess that she like the sound of my howling as she began to ‘work’ on this sit
spot. She just kept swatting the same place - time and again, one swat nearly
over-lapping the previous sting.
My mind suddenly traveled back in time to my senior year in high school. I’d
traveled to Florida with some friends on spring break and drunk too much beer,
falling asleep on the beach. The sun had rapidly par-broiled my body, leaving a
burn that required but a light touch to be painful. That was what my bottom
already felt like.
But, she wasn’t touching it lightly. She was punishing it with maybe one swat
every couple of seconds, each swat as vigorous as the last, with a promise of
another, equally-severe swat to follow.
I slowly became aware that she’d stopped paddling. I continued to cry - sob,
really, as she’d promised I would - tears streaming down my face, my nose
running, my chest heaving. I don’t know how long my disciplinarian had been
speaking but I heard her now, speaking to her twins.
“There you have it, girls. That was an acceptable warm-up. We will let him calm
down and collect himself before I give him his thrashing. If either of you would
like to have his tear-covered face between you thighs - or between your butt
cheeks - you can take this opportunity to have a submissive man serve you. Serve
you, that is, as I whip his ass like he’s never even imagined that a man could
“You needn’t say anything. Just scoot forward on your chair and, if you’re
wearing any, remove your panties. If you’d prefer that he rim your butt, simply
kneel on the chair, bare bottom facing the room and I’ll have him show his
respect to you while I whip him.
“Surely you know what a privilege it is for a man to be able to serve such
young, beautiful girls in the most intimate ways. A privilege for which he will
pay. I’ll see to that. He’ll pay with the skin of his rear.”
I was just able to see that the twins had both responded to their mother’s
invitation. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that one of them had scootched
forward in her chair, offering her clean-shaven pussy to my attentions. Her twin
had opted for the rear homage and was kneeling on her chair, her hard-bodied
young bubble butt transmitting a silent siren’s song, promising the reward that
only a young lady can offer.
In spite of what I anticipated to come in a moment, I was still anxious to lick
and suck on these two girls’ bodies. I could feel my cock throbbing and my ass
burning. I knew that I was going to be beaten some more. Beaten unmercifully as
my pleas were ignored. I knew that her promise to ‘un-man’ me was not empty. I
felt, viscerally, that I was soon to travel to a spot that many men dreamed of -
but never experienced in reality.
Directing me to the daughter whose bottom was facing me, she ordered me to crawl
over and insinuate my face between her butt cheeks. As I did so, I saw her sweet
little, clean-shaven pussy peeking from between her luscious thighs. I hoped
that I’d get a taste of her pussy also, but was also excited at the prospect of
licking her ass.
“It’s almost show time, little man. Later, I’ll treat you to the strap and the
cane. For now, I think that you will benefit from a further application of the
paddle. You certainly seemed to react to it’s sting during your warm up.
“When I stop talking and start paddling you, I expect you to start licking
Tammy’s crack and tongue-fucking her butt hole. I want you to get your tongue up
her ass as far as possible and if you don’t perform to her satisfaction, I’ll
get out a single tail whip and make you wish you’d never entered my store.”
She’d stopped talking and my tongue was already in motion when I felt the
now-familiar sting of the paddle.
If asked, I’d have said that nothing could hurt more than her so-called
‘warm-up’; and, I’d have been wrong. So wrong!! This was difficult to describe.
I was torn between the heavenly feeling of my face buried in the ass of a
hard-bodied teen and the relentless swat, swat, swat of the fiendish ‘souvenir’.
Competing with the two sensations of my face and bottom was the voice of my new
“Do I have your attention? I hope that you know how fortunate you are to be
serving my daughter. Half the boys in her class - and many of the girls - would
love to have a turn on their knees for her. If I keep you around you will have
this privilege - and duty - with both of the twins…and, at times, their friends.
For this, you will pay, literally, with your ass.
“You‘re getting a taste now. But, I must caution you. This is truly only a
taste. Until you‘ve had a thorough strapping and felt the cane‘s delicious bite,
you‘ll not have known what true submission to a woman‘s whip-hand can mean.
“While it is true that most women lack the wish or capacity to discipline their
man, some of us revel in your cries. We get moist at the thought of your
submission and soaking wet at the sound of your sobbing.
“Speaking of sobbing, I promised you that you‘d do so and it sounds like you‘re
While she’d been talking, I’d be totally overloaded with sensations. Like the
proverbial kid-in-a-candy-store, I’d never ceased to lave the silken cheeks
before me, running my tongue frequently from the base of her crack to her ‘coin
As instructed, I periodically focused my attention on her butt hole, spearing it
with my tongue, reveling in the submission of it. She’d called it the
‘submissive kiss’ and the name seemed appros pos. There was absolutely no doubt
in my mind that I was the ‘submissive’ in this menage. Of course, the continued
stinging of the paddle helped to reinforce my feeling of quiescence.
I remembered that she’d said this was Tammy. I wondered if I would be allowed to
lick Tiffany’s pussy. I realized that, yes, I would, for their mother had a
contract to have me ‘pay with my ass’ for the privilege. While I had trouble
imagining how the whipping could hurt more when I attended to Tiffany, I knew
that it would. I’d had it demonstrated with the second paddling. While I licked
and rimmed Tammy.
In spite of the certainty. This sure knowledge that I was to suffer horribly as
the price of admission, so to speak, I looked forward with eager anticipation to
the moment with my lips would sip at her vulva. I knew that her shaven, teen
pussy would be fresh and sweet. I had learned, over the years to eat pussy. Now,
at the ripe old age of twenty-six, I had developed a predilection for the
activity. I was, after all, a ‘submissive’ at heart. I’d developed a
psycho-sexuality that caused me to live the reality of ‘it’s better to give then
Once again, the paddling had stopped but not my crying. It’d been a challenge to
keep my face between Tammy’s cheeks while I was being so severely paddled. As
I’d begun to cry, it felt like her bottom had quivered with approval.
When I began ‘sobbing’ it had become next to impossible to maintain my position
and my face slipped from its place of homage only to have me instantly return it
to its duty.
As my sobbing became ‘racking’ and I heard myself begin to hiccup, I had given
up any pretense of oral devotion and simply yielded to the discipline being so
enthusiastically delivered via the thin slice of wood that continued to redden
and heat my bottom.
With the cessation of the paddling - at least temporarily - I fell again to my
elbows and continued to cry as I’d not cried since I’d been a little boy.
I’d read erotica that suggested a whipping lessened in painful effect as
endorphins were delivered to the body, in response to the stimulus of the pain.
I’d read that the ‘bottom’ could find a ‘sub-space’ where, in a kind of
dream-like euphoria, the pain would abate and turn to ‘pure pleasure’.
Bullshit!! No endorphin rush; no euphoria. Just unmitigated, unprecedented (for
me) pain. The only satisfaction that I’d felt from the discipline was the sense
of accomplishment for having endured; and, I suppose, the feeling of completion.
Completion of a tacit ‘contract’. A contract that called for one party to
deliver and the other to receive, a thorough, merciless, very severe thrashing.
I felt like I was beginning to understand that word.
As I said, I knew that there would be worse to come….and I knew that I would
welcome it. For I knew that the pain I was submitting to accepting was to be my
price of admission. Admission to the phantasmagoric vision of worshiping at a
beautiful teen girl’s most intimate parts.
And, so I found myself kneeling on the floor, beaten into what I felt was total
submission. My face was covered with tears, which still streamed out of my eyes,
seemingly unaware of the cessation of my discipline. My buttocks and thighs
burned and throbbed in pain. Pain like I’d never ever experienced before.
My sobbing seemed to be subsiding along with a slowing of my breathing. I
wondered if I would be made to wait before being given the privilege of serving
Tiffany, who had remained on the front edge of her chair, her skirt raised to
her waist and her legs apart.
I could see the pink within her vagina. Past the labia - majora and minora. The
lips, themselves, were devoid of any trace of hair and I assumed that she’d not
only been shaved but thoroughly waxed to a smoothness that lured me like a moth
to a flame.
I could feel my mouth salivating as I anticipated my next ‘task’ - as I looked
into the immediate future of finding my face between her satin-smooth thighs and
my mouth paying my respects to her vulva. I hoped I would be allowed to kiss
lower and give her some of the same treatment that I’d given her sister.
So, I felt beaten - more accurately, paddled - and paddled severely. I also felt
that my erection surpassed any and all the had accrued in my past. Surely this
level of sexual arousal was something that most men were never given. I felt an
ironic gratitude to my new love.
Yes, love. For that’s what I thought of her. I knew that if she were to give me
the option, I would eagerly choose a life of servitude to her - with or without
(but preferably with) her twins - knowing that she would whip me. Whip me
regularly, hard, and long.
She’d told me that she intended to ‘un-man’ me. I’d never heard the term before
and could only conclude that she meant I’d be psychologically castrated.
Subjugated to her Goddess-like rule. A rule that included corporal discipline
and service to her and others. I could only aspire to serve her in some sort of
In my vivid imagination, I’d didn’t see us as ‘Mistress’ and ‘Slave’ - this
seemed to role-playingly phony. I saw us, I guess, as husband and wife.
Submissive husband and dominant wife. Submissive husband and disciplinary wife.
The concept of disciplinary wife was new to me when I first visited a web site
for the disciplinary wives club. This was a long-standing site devoted to
helping women, either married or in committed relationships, to learn the
particulars of disciplining their husband or significant with corporal
They advocated painful, severe, and frequent spanking and paddling in order to
address ‘the little boy’ that many say that men have. When I’d read letters from
purported ‘real people’ I wondered if this was the only ‘real’ site of this
flavor on the net. Certainly the only one that I had found.
What set it apart was the severity of the corporal punishment. Not the patty
cake playful of the loving wife who was loathe to ‘hurt’ her beloved by
‘spanking too hard’. Such squeamishness wasn’t in evidence at the disciplinary
The punishments that were described often as not brought the husband to very
real tears. Spankings - and canings - left husbands and boyfriends in fear of
their wife or girlfriend. Welts endured for days and, with a cane, sometimes
weeks - reminders of past misbehaviors and admonishments to behave ‘good’ in
Wives spoke of their husband ‘sobbing’ after they’d thoroughly punished them,
tears on their face and unable to compose themselves for as much as an hour
after the discipline.
Almost without exception these women would provide a ‘training’ or ‘maintenance’
spanking on a regular basis. The most common schedule of periodicity was weekly
- sometimes it was more often. In addition to these weekly ‘reminders’ as to
‘who is the boss’, there were so-called punishment spankings.
More than one couple had found that merely ‘milking’ the husband/boyfriend prior
to their discipline would cumulate towards a more effective - read that
‘painful’ - result. Another issue seemed to be the choice of restraints to
ensure that the submissive husband or boyfriend was held in place during their
discipline - most especially for more salutary thrashings.
I’d never imagined that I would ever find myself in circumstances that were
described by these people. I couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to be
spanked that hard.
Now I didn’t need to imagine. I knew what it felt like and I found that I was
proud to have endured what had been given me so far. To my surprise, I found
myself looking forward to the genuine thrashing that was to’un-man’ me. For the
first time in my life, I knew that this was my destiny; to be ‘un-manned’ by a
woman who knew how to truly possess me.
The thought of the thrashing to soon come absolutely terrified me. At the same
time, it gladdened me to know that, after she’d struck the last lash, I would
have given her what so few understood to be a gift that was truly priceless.
That gift being my unqualified submission to her authority. A submission that
was predicated upon the clear understanding that its value was in direct
proportion to the amount of pain that I could/would endure for her. A gift that
begged her commitment. A commitment to regularly and severely discipline me. To
regularly bring me to tears and then beyond to sobbing.
I hoped, at least at this moment, that she’d take me at my word and test my
sincerity. Test it with a paddle; a strap; a cane; and a whip. Test it until I
was hoarse from screaming and then reward me by granting me the privilege of
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