Friday, March 16, 2012

The most embarrassing spanking ever

First of all sorry for only publishing now, but this story took me longer than planned to write. Besides I continued writing on the novel, for which I had a creative spurt.
WARNING!!! This spanking story could be quite tough, so if you're a bit faint hearted or against corporal punishment of children, please don't read it. Again in real live I wouldn't consider to spank kids.
If you haven't read Sam's spanking stories, you can read them in The Reward of Helping (July 2011) and Quest for the truth  (August 2011). Thanks for your continued support!
Hope you enjoy this one. :-)

Coldham Fintan Noose III and Samuel "Sam" Richards were best friends, since Coldham, who didn't care for his first name and preferred to be called Fin, broke into the wrong apartment. Sam caught him, but decided to help Fin instead and didn't go to the police.
Now they were together with their families on vacation in Guatemala.

Sam knew about Fin's upbringing, and generally Fin didn't mind talking about it. It was anyway rarely that Sam mentioned it and had been open about his own. This time around they were sitting on the balcony of Fin's suite and sipping tropical juices. "Fin, tell me what was your most embarrassing spanking." Fin didn't have to think long. His spankings had been generally degrading, but there were only two he found very embarrassing. Weighing up which one was the most humiliating, he made up his mind.
"I was maybe thirteen or fourteen, I guess, and it was one of the few occasions one parent spanked me alone without the other being present. In this case it was my mother. My father was on a business trip. I don't even remember why I was spanked. I think it was for talking back. She thought my behavior warranted six strokes with the cane." Sam grimaced in sympathy. He had felt the belt twice, so he didn't know how painful the cane was. Having gone through a similar experience, though, he could imagine it was hell. Sam's grandfather had given Sam fifteen blistering strokes on the bare behind once and the other time six. Fin continued his story. “Anyhow, Mom asked me to pull down my pants and underwear. I wasn't too keen on it, because I had reached puberty by then, and well, I found it embarrassing she was going to see everything. Not that she hadn't before - mostly, when I was punished. As always I tried to stall. Of course it wasn't successful. I bet Mom had chosen to spank me on my room on purpose. My brother Mike's room was just beside mine. I hated he could hear my reaction to the sound walloping I was going to receive and that he knew I was going to get it. It was so embarrassing. That wasn't the worst. Mom told me to bend over the back of my chair until I was standing on tiptoes. My bared behind stuck out and offered an ideal target. Mom let me wait what seemed like ages. Then the first stroke came, hitting my bottom in the middle. Mom was laying it on harder than usual. I can imagine why. For some reason she had an obsession to make me cry, while I was still spanked - either by her or my Dad - I rarely did her the favor. Harder strokes meant also a faster and louder reaction from me, insuring Mike heard guaranteed what was going on. I was unable to take the first stroke quiet. The second was about the same strength. Being better prepared, I managed to take that one silent. The third took my breath away and reignited the burning fire in my behind. I couldn't make a sound, even if I had wanted to. The fourth cut was mega hard. I nearly lost control and wanted to reach back or get up. I didn't either. I definitely screamed. My eyes filled with tears, but I held them back, not wanting to give Mom the satisfaction. Then I waited and waited and hoped for a moment I had miscounted and we had already reached six. Unfortunately I had counted right. Mom kept me in suspense for a minute or two. My behind was already throbbing, especially where the last stroke had hit me. Mom had managed to line up four straight stripes, covering my behind from the top to my sit spots. There would have been space for the other two without question. Instead she ordered me to get up and turn around. I hesitated, because she hadn't allowed me to pull up my clothing and if I turned it meant she would be able to see my genitals. I didn't understand why she wanted me to get out of position. There were still two to go. "Do you want to get over with your punishment?" Mom asked sternly. Of course I wanted to. It was a struggle to keep up my composure, and the sooner it was over, the sooner she would leave, the sooner I could let go..." Fin's blue grey eyes had changed to blue by the memory. He was still upset. Sam, who sensed it might be too much for his friend, said: "You don't have to go further." "I've started, so I'll finish." Fin took his time, though, and sipped from his juice. "Well, as I didn't have a choice, I got up and turned round, trying to cover my bared midsection with my hands. My mother told me that it was unacceptable and I should drop them to the side. Slowly I dropped my hands. I felt so ashamed, humiliated and angry. Still not getting my mother's intention, I was trying to figure out, what she wanted to do. Mom seemed to enjoy her power and let me stew for another few minutes. I didn't know where to look and was ashamed, She asked me to stretch out my right hand. Suddenly I got the idea. Shaking I complied. She raised the cane, and it swished down, cutting across my sensitive palm. I shouted and shook my hand like mad and jumped from one foot to the other, trying to get rid of the incredible pain. My penis dangled wildly as well, clearly visible to her. It made me blush furiously, and I felt very exposed and even more ashamed. Since we had still one cut left, she asked me to hold out the other hand. For the second stroke I closed my eyes, I didn't want to see it, but it didn't help. As soon as I heard the whistling, I knew the impact was near. It took me all my will power not to pull away. Again the pain was excruciating, and for a moment I thought I had a few broken bones. I couldn't move my fingers and burst into tears. I didn't know how to deal with the fire in my behind and hands, or the anger and shame I felt. To my dismay and further humiliation, I couldn't dress myself, because of the stiffness of my hands and fingers - my mother did it for me, not asking what I wanted, and she was quiet rough about it.  I had stopped crying before, but when Mom pushed up my briefs, I started again. You won't believe how much I hated her. My ill feelings towards her only lessened after months. After Mom had dressed me, she gave me a short lecture and left." "How about your hands and backside?" "I hid my hands under my armpits and later cooled them under cold water. The red streaks disappeared after a day.  My bottom was another matter. I had bruises and of course tramlines for around two weeks." "Did your parents ever again whip you across the palms?" "No, and I'm glad it was a once off." Fin then asked Sam in return about which of his two spankings was more embarrassing. Sam thought it was the last one, because first of all he was spanked in the hall way and second he had to count the strokes. Being proud and similar to Fin he didn't want his younger sisters to find out he was at the receiving end of justice. Unfortunately for him one of his sisters woke up and witnessed at least the part he got dressed with his grandfather hovering in the background, still holding the folded belt in hand.


No comments:

Post a Comment