Oh crikey I thought. Yes, masturbating when on the naughty spot has earned me a second spanking. What an idiot. The second spanking will be much worse.
38 years old, I have just been put across my Mum’s lap and given a hard hand spanking, and now, just a few minutes later, I am on the naughty spot again, my nose touching the wall, naked from top to toe, knowing my bottom is going to be thrashed again.
My extra 10 minutes facing the wall were awful as I pondered what will happen.
I enjoyed Mum’s hand spankings, erotic actually. She knew I did. More intense spankings were OK, afterwards, but I really found them quite painful. I knew she would add an implement to the second spanking. She always did. There were several to choose from.
As I got older so I found a hand spanking less satisfactory just as Mum knew hand spanking a girl in her 20’s and then her 30’s wasn’t sufficient discipline. She always managed to stay a step ahead of me knowing bringing me to tears whilst being disciplined was her only aim. As discipline was her sole domain I had no say in how she stepped up the pain. A hairbrush was the first implement introduced. A flat oblong backed wooden paddle hairbrush which she used with increasing regularity with over the knee spankings. It stung like crazy and she knew went beyond my enjoyment level. She then introduced the strap which was a two pronged leather affair which she needed to be standing up to deliver. Next was the horsewhip. I enjoyed horse riding so it was almost natural when she later introduced it. One of my own actually. When I was 25 the cane appeared. She watched a film about a school in the 1950’s and decided the cane would be a good deterrent. It was. It hurt, like a lot, and I hated it when she used it on me.
Afterwards when I was in my bedroom wasn’t so bad, as the sexual feeling created was the most intense of the implements, but the caning itself was positively dreadful. The cane was usually left for serious discipline spankings but she uses it on my hand when she catches me touching myself. That was my worry now. I had touched myself, been caught, and knew I would be made to pay. Painfully.
Too soon Mum came back and stood behind me.
“Have you touched yourself again Nina?” she asked sharply.
I only had myself to blame. A 38 year old should know rules are rules and Mum enforces her rules strictly, to the letter.
“No Mum” I answered truthfully.
“OK. Turn around then.”
I turned and looked quickly at the table and gasped. Mum saw I was screwing up my face and said “it’s your own fault my girl. Now I am going to have to turn your bottom much redder than your hair.”
The hairbrush and the cane. Both were there on the table. She was cross with me for sure. I wasn’t looking forward to either implement. My bottom was already stinging and that will be matched by my hands. What I had thought all afternoon would be only a hard hand spanking which had just been given was now going to be far far worse.
Just then the doorbell rang. Oh no, not just before a spanking I thought. Mum went to the door and a few moments later came back in to the room with her friend Eve.
“Yes Eve, one spanking wasn’t enough so I am about to give her a second one.”
Eve looked at me with her ‘you naughty girl’ look.
Mum said “why not make some tea and watch? Nina can stay facing the wall until you get back.”
“OK” Eve said and added “that is a nicely reddened bottom already.”
Yeah, I really needed to be told that.
A couple of minutes later she was back.
“Comfy Eve?” Mum asked and presumably Eve nodded because Mum said “Good, then let’s get started shall we?”
“Turn around Nina” she ordered.
I saw Eve sitting on an armchair, her legs crossed, sipping her tea, looking as though she was really going to enjoy watching me being disciplined.
Mum came over to me, took my upper arm firmly in hers and led me to the chair, sat down and I knew to stand in front of her still with my hands on my head. This was discipline now, not a passably painful hand spanking. This will involve implements, lots of pain, and lots of crying. My knickers were still on the floor as they are not returned to me until after my corner time is complete, and that didn’t happen today. My hair mound was on show, and I knew it was moist and Mum will see it is wet. That was even worse as she will see it as her duty to remove all feelings of arousal I might have.
“You naughty girl Nina” she said simply, calmly, as though it was an everyday thing, but showing she meant business.
Mum patted her leg and I stepped to her right and quickly bent down again across her lap, using the chair as a lever but touching her leg. I glanced at Eve who had the perfect view of my pussy. I passed so close to Mum’s face and her pursed lips told me she was furious, really furious in fact. It sure didn’t help calm me down as I carried on forward and the carpet came up to meet me, as did my knickers. I stretched my arms out in front again and when I looked back under the chair I saw my legs dangling just off the floor. I knew my already reddened bottom was perched again across Mum’s right thigh, angled perfectly for her arm swing so she caught my bottom just right with the full palm of her hand.
I looked across at Eve who was still smiling. 38 years old and not only being spanked, but being spanked in front of one of her Mum’s friends!
After only a few minutes I was squirming in the fruitless effort to avoid Mum’s spanks. I never can. Mum is far too expert at ensuring she spanks me where she wants to and not where I want her to. Spank after spank leaves me first gasping, then groaning, my eyes close and I feel the first tear drip down my face. Mum sees the tear, is waiting for it, and increases the strength of each spank.
She decides how long the hand spanking will last, always though longer than I can bear. This time she has the hairbrush to use as well. I felt her swivel round to pick up the brush, and I felt the flat wooden paddle head rest on my bottom. I waited in dread. Mum enjoys using the hairbrush as I can remain across her lap in a position of complete subservience whilst she inflicts greater punishment allowing her to simply employ the implement but not hurt her own hand. That means longer and much harder than her hand. I am conscious of the brush being raised but once it crashes back down on my already sore bottom so I forget everything and the crying starts and continues unabated.
On and on she spanked with the brush. I stopped counting at fifty spanks and knew today she was well passed one hundred and still going strong. She goes by the colour of my bottom rather than the number of spanks. Whether I cry is immaterial. She simply knows I will cry. Deep chest heaving sobs. She is teaching me a lesson and it’s no good if I don’t end up promising myself never to be naughty ever again. I can only do that whilst crying out loud and acknowledging she has control. It stops only when she decides it should stop.
Eventually it does stop. My crying continues for several minutes though, with me prone across her lap, her hand rubbing my sore bottom, until Mum tells me I must get up.
This time, like always, I edge myself up whilst tears still fill my eyes. I am allowed to rub away the tears but cannot under any circumstances rub my bottom.
I remember Eve sitting there and see her through my tears. I don’t care right now that she has a full view of me, not just my red bottom but everything else as well.
The pain is all I can really think about so when I can see again and open my eyes and make out Mum standing up, with the cane in her hand, flexing it, I gasp, and she smiles. Yes that look on my face is priceless she says. I groan and wait for her instructions.
Mum said “did you see the look on her face Eve? Nina completely forgot about the cane you know.”
I looked across at Eve who was looking very happy with herself. It wasn’t her fault. I didn’t hate her or anything. Sure I found her watching me humiliating but it was Mum’s decision and I had to obey her. It’s just the smile made me feel so small. 38 years old, naked, being spanked by my Mum whilst her friend watches me, and who smiles at my predicament. Yes, really degrading.
Mum snapped me out of my thoughts with a sharp “Hold your hand out young lady. This is for touching yourself. I hope you found it worthwhile enough to earn this.”
I slowly hold out my hand still sobbing, tears flowing again in anticipation, not yet knowing how many strokes I am to receive.
It has been as much as six on each hand but very rarely. One thing I did know was touching myself was definitely not worth the caning I was going to get, whatever the number of strokes Mum decides I have earned.
Mum touches the cane on my hand and I quiver. This is my most feared implement. Admittedly I fear being caned on my bottom far more than on my hands, and Mum only canes me on my bottom for real discipline spankings, but taking it on the hand is still hard.
I groan when I hear Mum say “two strokes Nina, on each hand.”
Two on each hand. That’s good actually. Not perfect but good. It was still horrible. 38 years old and having to hold my hand out in front of me as my 62 year old Mum rests the cane on my stretched out palm, tapping my hand a couple of times. I closed my eyes as I saw the cane lifted up and then hear the unnerving swish as Mum brings it down across my palm. I shriek and my hand lowers automatically, recoiling away, but I know I have to raise it again before Mum tells me or else it doesn’t count. My hand is held straight out again, my lips quivering, my eyes wet. Mum taps my hand lightly a couple of times with the cane, raises it, I hear the second swish and it hurts more than the first.
I cry out again but force myself to hold out my other hand. After a couple of light taps I hear the swish and again I gasp. One left. That is all I am thinking of as I lift my hand again. This time when I hear the swish and feel the stinging I know it is over. All over.
I have to hold my hands down by my sides and not rub my hands or my bottom. I never know what to rub first anyway.
Mum dropped the cane on the table and ordered “Go and stand facing the wall Nina. Make sure you don’t touch yourself again because the punishment will be doubled.”
I go and face the wall. I have to put my stinging hands on top of my head and keep saying to myself I must not touch myself between my legs again. My bottom stings and I sob away, a grown woman of 38 standing facing the wall, my hands on my head, crying because I have just been disciplined, my Mother watching me as I cry no doubt congratulating herself on ensuring I know how naughty I have been and that I have been properly punished. A fact my sore bottom and stinging hands tells me only too clearly.
When my wall facing time is thankfully eventually up Mum comes over to me, turns me around, pulls me close and hugs me, telling me if I stay good in future I needn’t be punished again. Just words I know, but welcome words whilst I struggle with the pain across my bottom and the palms of my hands. Those hugs are important to me. I feel so safe in Mum’s arms as she kisses my cheek and tells me it’s all over. 38 years old going on young and it still feels so good to be held in Mum’s arms and have her tell me I am now a good girl and that my punishment is all over.
We both know it is only over until the next time of course, but at least this thrashing is over.
Eventually I draw myself away from her, when I am ready, kiss and hug her once more, always say a heartfelt “thank you Mum” and “I’m so sorry”
“Say sorry to Eve for having to watch you being disciplined Nina.”
I knew it was right to do so but still felt so ashamed. It wasn’t her fault. She came over for a chat with Mum and had to sit through all of this. I went over to Eve, fully knowing I was still naked but couldn’t do anything about that, my bottom and hands so sore, and said “please forgive Eve.”
I knew I had to give her a kiss on the cheek and bent down, my breasts flopping in front of me which only added to my discomfort and I knew my face was as red as my bottom and hair.
As quickly as I could I picked up my discarded knickers and went upstairs. I stopped at the bathroom first and washed my face. I blew on my stinging hands, the cool air feeling good but the stinging won’t go away.
Once I have settled myself down and stopped crying at least, I inspect my bottom. It is red and bruised and because the thrashing was severe I know it will still be sore tomorrow when I go to work.
I went to my bedroom and got dressed. I cannot masturbate yet. I want to lie on the bed because I feel so sexed and want to masturbate, need to masturbate, but Mum won’t have it. I have to wait for tonight, at bedtime, before I can release my pent up sex. It is part of her control over me. She knows I am aroused by now and makes me wait, as part of my punishment. I daren’t even touch myself for a second. I just think about four strokes of the cane on each hand if she catches me and it is enough to stop me. Her control works.
I went back downstairs and Eve had gone thank goodness.
Mum looked at me closely and knows if I have masturbated. She is satisfied I haven’t. She smiles and chats away almost forgetting the spanking she has given me, and is her motherly self again. I went and sat at the table and smiled at Mum when I see the thick cushion on my chair. Yes, she is back to looking after me and knows how much I need a soft seat just now.
Mum came over to the table and sat down next to me.
I smiled at her. “I so hate being bathed by you Mum. It’s so humiliating.”
“I know you hate it dear which is why I still do it, and you know it will happen if you masturbate anywhere other than your bedroom. I won’t stop you know.”
“I know Mum. I guess it’s up to me to make sure I keep to the rules.” I smiled and added “give me a good spanking any day Mum.”
Then the bombshell. She took my hand and looked me straight in the eye and said matter of factly “That brings me on to something else dear. I thought you were too chirpy when you got home and went straight to the naughty spot. You handled yourself very easily with the hand spanking Nina, so I guess I need to up the severity again.”
“Did I? Must you?” I asked, knowing this was Mum making sure I was properly punished when I needed to be.
“Yes dear, so I have decided that from now on I will be using the hairbrush as standard every time I spank you just to be extra sure of teaching you your lesson. You seem to react well to it don’t you as you are always more obedient after I’ve used it on you, for a while any way?”
I said “yes Mum, I know I am. It’s because it hurts so much.” I smiled at her and she smiled back. I continued “Of course you must use the hairbrush in future, whatever you decide in fact.” Not what I wanted at all as the hairbrush really did hurt, but who was I, a pseudo teenager, to argue with my Mum. All I knew for sure was that I would be crying louder and longer when I get spanked in future. Ok she is right, I do find hand spankings easy. They hurt but I can easily cope and they weren’t the deterrent Mum wanted. I’m not sure I will want to earn so many spankings if it’s the hairbrush. I don’t think I’m going to like this regime one little bit. Crikey, I may even have to behave better as well.
Mum smiled, lent across and kissed me and said “good, that’s settled then. I’ll get a few more hairbrushes in so one will always be within easy reach wherever we are in the house. Maybe one for each naughty spot. Does that make sense dear?”
“Yes Mum, very good sense.”
Of course it made admirable sense to buy lot’s of those damned hairbrushes which will make using one on me that much easier for Mum. Well it’s the hairbrush in future for sure.
I reckoned Mum told me now knowing that she had given me something to think about when I am on my bed masturbating later on. She sure knew how to be strict with me.
With that decided Mum reverted to loving Mother in a second. “So Nina, tell me about your day.”
Mum and I always easily slipped back in to mother and daughter mode telling each other about our day. We both acted as though Mum had never had me, her 38 year old daughter, across her lap giving me my spanking. I know Mum is the best Mum in the world always there for me no matter whether she is proud when I achieve a goal at work, or mad at me when I am naughty and deserve to go across her lap. She never holds back when she has to discipline me, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I know my own enjoyment will come at bedtime when my bottom will be sore, still warm to my touch, and I will bring myself to orgasm time and time again before falling in to a deep sleep. I can hardly wait although for now was enjoying having my Mum ask about my day, interested, wanting to know, the spanking all but forgotten, the 38 year old teenager back in her Mum’s good books. For now anyway.
“It was good Mum. Funnily enough I had to discipline an employee though after he was caught stealing.”
“What, you spanked him?”
“No Mum we can’t do that at work” I said laughing, “although it would be far more effective if I did” I added rubbing my sore bottom.
If yoiu enjoyed this story please read the first part already in this section
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