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Tyler Gets a Spanking Tylersmompov
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Have you heard your mom being spanked? – Quora
As a mom whose husband disciplined her I can say that our daughters have heard me get a strapping more than once. My husband usually takes care of it after …
Source: www.quora.com
Date Published: 6/17/2021
View: 4360
Mom Gets Spanked-Mom Spanks (Russell and Danny)
New MMSA corporal punishment story by Bunbuster : Mom Gets Spanked-Mom Spanks (Russell and Danny)
Source: malespank.net
Date Published: 1/21/2021
View: 9355
Spanking Mom Stories – SmutMD
AUTHOR’S NOTE: This story is about the lewd, provocative and embarrassing punishment a young man gets from his mother and sister because of his bad behavior …
Source: www.smutmd.com
Date Published: 2/11/2022
View: 9900
Amy and Her Mother – Over the Desk Spanking Stories
“But mom…” “Just eat your breakfast and get to school.” To prevent any further discussion, Mrs Westerhuis left the room.
Source: www.overthedesk.com
Date Published: 1/7/2022
View: 3291
Wild Spanking on Mommy (Caught Mommy watching Porn)
One tape had movies that depicted mother/son stories and the other … I started to get a hard-on and peeked through the keyhole to see what …
Source: newsexstory.com
Date Published: 10/14/2022
View: 9257
Two Spanking Stories Mom gives a Spanking and Mom gets a …
In the second story mom gets spanked by her deceased husbands’ best friend, under the suggestion of her adult daughter. This story has lots of sex, very hot sex …
Source: www.amazon.com
Date Published: 4/10/2022
View: 4559
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Spanking Mom Stories – SmutMD
Punishment of Unruly Son Ch. 07 by RandomAuthor on Sep 15, 2017 Incest/Taboo AUTHOR’S NOTE: This story is about the lewd, provocative, and embarrassing punishment a young man receives from his mother and sister for his bad behavior, and how the punishment affects them all. It’s not BDSM. All characters are over 18 years old and members of the same family. Please select another story from the huge Literotica library if you… 106,462 views
27 favourites
27 comments
7,659 words
www.literotica.com
Mom lets me spank Glenda by lesliejones on October 13, 2020 BDSM Ever since my father was lost in a war several years ago, my mother has often taken me over her lap and lowered my panties for a spanking. Ever since I was 18, it’s getting more and more embarrassing, because when Mom decides to spank, the spanking follows immediately, even if there are others around. I was the one who got spanked even if I… 157,946 views
19 favourites
7 comments
2,235 words
www.literotica.com
Dancing for Joy Ch. 02: Turnabout by BadBoyMichael on December 12, 2018 Incest/Taboo There I was laying on the couch at my mom’s house while she rode my cock. I looked up at her beautiful face and sexy body. I shot my load but was still hard. She kept riding me. Her rather large tits bobbed away as she bounced, twisted and shook her hips faster and faster. She called my name louder and louder. Then she turned around and… 17,903 views
21 favourites
1 comments
2,048 words
www.literotica.com
Everything that touches Oedipus… by BadBoyMichael on September 15, 2017 Incest/Taboo I was beaten up by my mother throughout my teenage years and still do to this day. But today it’s not for the same reasons. In the years since I turned 18, it’s been just for fun. About a month after my 18th birthday the unthinkable happened. Unthinkable at the time, but the results are amazing. I started getting a boner when my mom got spanked… 16,994 views
14 favourites
5 comments
997 words
www.literotica.com
Another spanking mom? by Tattletale on 09/15/2017 Incest/Taboo Until recently, I had a very low opinion of men who fuck their own mothers. My whole view of incest changed after I fucked my own mother. It happened when my wife Clarissa and I were visiting her on our return to the US from England. I was stationed at an air force base in England for several years. I met Clarissa in a pub in London and fell in love with her… 285,566 views
81 favourites
2,797 words
www.literotica.com
Julie, A hairbrush and I Ch. 01 by mastermario on September 15, 2017 BDSM Story Begins Three years after Mario ended up over Julie’s knee, Mario is now almost 20 a full-time member of the armed forces and decides to come home. He fails to inform the beautiful Marta. A few years have passed since then, for me the embarrassing episode with Julie’s bra. Since then I had finished my school days and thanks to Mom, how Marta has become, I am… 26,968 Views
1 favourites
2,252 words
www.literotica.com
Spanking sis by Kinxx on September 15, 2017 Incest/Taboo My sister Tracy is 18 months older than me but growing up I always felt like I was the “big” brother. Sure, we had our fights, but mostly we got along really well. When she broke up with her first serious boyfriend, or when her friends teased her, or when her pet fish died, she came to me and cried, we shared almost all of our childhood secrets… 195,533 views
68 favourites
6 comments
5,365 words
www.literotica.com
Spanked Mom by tracker99504 on September 15, 2017 Incest/Taboo It was only moments after Alice hung up the phone when she heard her son Rob enter the house and quite quietly he scurried upstairs to his room. Hmmm, she thought, that was a bit unusual for her son, who always called her when he came home. She heard the door to his room close. It was all so out of character for her son. In the six years… 518,086 views
74 favourites
24 comments
2,794 words
www.literotica.com
Uncle Charlie Ch. 2 by SpankerSam on September 15, 2017 Incest/Taboo “Mom? You have 4 days off next week, right?” I sat in the kitchen sipping my cup of coffee. My mother sat across from me and took notes on the balance sheet she was working on. Mom had raised me as a single mom, but she had also worked damn hard to get her position at the company she worked for. And their hard work paid off. She lived in a n… 243,565 views
25 favourites
4,716 words
www.literotica.com
Amy and Her Mother – Over The Desk Spanking Stories
What should have been a happy trip almost ends in disaster. US setting.
By Charlene Kent
“Mom, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t even talk to me. I don’t want to hear it.”
“Mummy…”
“Just go to your room. I don’t want to look at you i don’t want to talk to you Just go!”
With tears of frustration and regret streaming down her cheeks, Amy Westerhuis slammed the living room door behind her and fled up the stairs. She rushed into her room and threw herself face down on her bed, crying inconsolably.
At least it had turned out well. Sophie, Amy’s younger sister, was safe and well. In a few days she would be out of the hospital and back home. In a way it had been Sophie’s fault. She had been warned often enough never to play down by the river. In fact, she wouldn’t have allowed it at all if her mother hadn’t known that Amy was with her to take care of her.
That was the problem. Amy had been distracted by Jeff Anderson, an admirer of her school. They sat and talked on a bench and didn’t notice little Sophie walking away and getting closer and closer to the water. Amy had fallen in as Amy leaned forward to get a better look at a fish shimmering in the shallows, and the strong current had done the rest.
Amy and Jeff heard the screams. They immediately ran after Sophie and Jeff, luckily a good swimmer, soon had the little girl out of the water. However, she was already unconscious. The paramedics were there very quickly and took over Jeff’s resuscitation efforts and commended the young man for his efforts, without which poor little Sophie might not have survived.
Jeff didn’t fare too badly in the hospital. Amy was the culprit, certainly in her mother’s eyes. If she’d at least been wet, that might have put her in a better light, but Amy wasn’t a great swimmer and knew that diving in the water, too, would only have compounded Jeff’s problems. Now, at home, Amy was in big trouble.
It wasn’t until Mrs Westerhuis was released into the living room and the TV was blaring loudly that Amy found the courage to sneak downstairs to the kitchen and salvage a snack to take back to her room.
The next morning, a school day, Amy went down to breakfast to find that her mother had already eaten. However, a seat was prepared for her, and when she sat down, her mother placed her breakfast in front of her in silence.
“Mom, I’m really sorry…”
“Save it. I don’t want to hear it.”
“But mom…”
“Just eat your breakfast and go to school.” To prevent any further discussion, Mrs. Westerhuis left the room.
That evening and throughout the following day, Mrs. Westerhuis maintained her attitude of meeting her older daughter’s basic needs but offering nothing by way of entertainment, let alone forgiveness.
Amy, facing a second night alone in her room, knew this couldn’t go on, especially when Sophie came home the next day. At seven o’clock she went downstairs where her mother was sitting in the living room watching TV.
“Mom, we need to talk.”
“I think I made my feelings perfectly clear, young lady. I don’t want to see you or talk to you.”
“Mom, I’ve said I’m sorry more times than I can count.”
“Oh, are you sorry? Oh, then everything is ok. For heaven’s sake, girl, your sister could have died!”
“I know that, mom. I know that. And if I could go back in time and things could happen differently, don’t you think I’d be the first to do it? But I can not. What’s done is done.”
“I don’t care, just go to your room.”
“No mom. That’s not good enough. I’m your daughter too.”
“It’s a pity.”
“Look mom, I know you’re angry and you have every right to be. Yes, I should have taken better care of little Sophie. Yes, I deserve to be punished, but not like this. This silence of yours is like trying to pretend it didn’t happen. Well it happened and we must deal with the consequences. Don’t forget that Sophie is coming home tomorrow. Do we really want her to have to live in this atmosphere?”
For once, Ms. Westerhuis restrained herself from yelling back in anger. After considering Amy’s words for a few moments, her response was more measured. “It may be so, young lady, but don’t think forgiveness will come easily or quickly.”
“I know that, Mom, but don’t punish me with this endless silence. It’s like trying to sweep it under the rug.”
“I know. You said. But I’m just so angry I really don’t know what to say to you.”
“I know mom. I know.” Amy risked putting a hand on her mother’s shoulder, but the attempt at reconciliation was coldly ignored.
While the atmosphere remained extremely tense, Amy at least felt that her mother’s renewed silence had a slightly less icy undertone. She decided it was worth another try.
“Mom, you silence me again.”
“I did not want. I was just thinking about what might have happened to little Sophie.”
Amy felt her mother slowly coming around and risked sitting next to her mother on the sofa.
“I know you’re still mad at me mom and that’s okay. You have every right to be angry with me.”
Mrs. Westerhuis nodded thoughtfully.
“Mom, Sophie will be fine. She will come home tomorrow and we can both spoil her and try to make things better.”
Now Frau Westerhuis looked around angrily.
“Yes, I know mom. As for my little sister, I have a lot of catching up to do and I don’t think I won’t try hard. But I am also your daughter, I also have needs.”
“And what are your needs now, young lady?” Mrs. Westerhuis snapped.
“I have to deal with my guilt.” Amy, on the verge of tears, looked pleadingly at her mother. “I just feel so awful about what happened and what could have happened and everything.”
“You have to deal with your guilt? You are guilty! How am I supposed to help you with that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you need to punish me. Maybe that would do us both a lot of good.”
“Oh, so what should I do? Ground you for a few weeks? Would that make you feel better? Okay, you’re grounded for two weeks.”
“That’s not enough, Mom.” Amy shook her head, knowing that the punishment hadn’t been well thought out or given seriously.
“Oh, so now my punishment isn’t good enough for you? Well, what do you suggest, young lady?”
Amy leaned back in her seat and put her hands together, feeling something clear. “I don’t know, maybe you should paddle on my butt.”
“Amy, you’re eighteen, for Christ’s sake.”
“So? We’re still eligible to be paddled at school even though we’re eighteen.”
“We don’t have a paddle, unless you’ve suddenly developed a woodworking skill.”
“Mr. Bradstock down the road does.”
“How do you know?”
“Jennifer told me.”
“Jennifer Bradstock still gets the paddle? Merciful!”
“Let me go and get it mom. Let’s get this over with.”
Mrs. Westerhuis chuckled briefly at the irony of Amy’s language, but stopped when she saw the seriousness on the girl’s face.
“Please mom.” pleaded Amy.
“OK.”
As soon as her mother spoke, Amy got up and walked through the door. Ms. Westerhuis felt the need for coffee and decided to make Amy one too.
Amy, meanwhile, sprinted down the street and knocked on the Bradstocks’ front door.
“Hello Amy.” Jennifer Bradstock’s face appeared. “What can I do for you?”
“Hello, Jens. Is your father at home?”
“Sure. What do you want it for?”
“It’s… it’s kind of private, Jen.”
“Oh, alright. I’ll get him. Do you want to come in?”
“I’ll wait here if it doesn’t matter.”
“OK.”
The door closed and opened a few minutes later to Joe Bradstock, who was 6’1″ and 4.5 pounds.
“Hello Amy. Is there a problem?”
“No not really. Something like that.” Amy took a breath. “The thing is, Mr. Bradstock, can we borrow your paddle?”
“My paddle?” Joe Bradstock’s full, round face twisted into a half-smile as he scrutinized Amy, who in turn found her complexion flushing as she struggled to maintain eye contact. “Oh, I see.” Big Joe thought he understood as he studied the girl’s behavior. “A moment.”
Just as Mrs. Westerhuis had poured the two cups of coffee, she heard her front door open and close.
“In the kitchen, honey.” She called.
Looking up, she realized Amy wasn’t alone.
“Hello Mary.” Joe Bradstock smiled. “I wasn’t sure which of my paddles would best suit your needs, so I thought I’d bring both.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you, Joe.” Mrs. Westerhuis looked at the two paddles that the tall man was holding out for her inspection. Both were about two feet long, with the four-inch wooden straps narrowed at one end into handles. Both were light wood, almost white, maple she guessed, and both were less than half an inch thick. However, only one of the paddles had a series of holes pierced through the blade.
“We’ve got the solid ones for the smaller stuff, and we’ve got the holes for the more serious business, Mary. Say coffee smells good.”
“There’s more in the pot, Joe. Help yourself.”
While the tall Joe Bradstock was getting his own coffee, he handed the two paddles to Amy’s mom for inspection.
“I don’t know, Amy.” Mrs. Westerhuis showed both to her daughter. “Which do you mean? You seem to know more about this than I do.”
Amy shrugged, aware that Joe Bradstock had poured his coffee and was watching her stir in the sugar. “It’s up to you I guess mom.”
As Ms. Westerhuis took each paddle in turn and tried a few small practice swings with each, Joe commented, “Notice that the one with the holes swings through the air a little bit better, Mary? This gives it a better impact when it lands.”
“A better effect?” Mrs. Westerhuis looked to Amy for her answer.
“It hurts a little bit more, I think.” Amy admitted. “I had both. At school, I mean.” She added, in favor of Mr Bradstock.
“Really? You never said.”
“No, well, nothing to be proud of, I suppose.” Amy looked down at the floor and wouldn’t have been too unhappy if she was swollen at that moment.
“You choose.” Mrs. Westerhuis held out both paddles to her daughter.
“The one with the holes is really smart, ladies.” Joe Bradstock guessed. “But if we’re dealing with something serious here…”
Amy nodded. “I guess we do better with the holes, eh mom?”
“Thanks, Joe.” Mrs. Westerhuis held out the solid-bladed paddle to the tall man. “I’ll send Amy along when we’re done.”
“You sure I don’t have to help you, Mary?” Big Joe grinned and Amy became extremely concerned.
“No, that’s okay, Joe. We’ll manage.”
Amy caught her breath and Joe Bradstock picked up the unwanted paddle and left.
“Where do we do this?” asked Ms. Westerhuis as they drained their coffee.
“My room? Away from prying eyes?”
“Okay. Do you want to lead the way?” Amy’s mother couldn’t help but gaze at her daughter’s neatly rounded bottom as the eighteen year old walked up the stairs to her room. Yes, her daughter certainly has a pair of tight blue jeans well filled.
As Mrs Westerhuis followed her daughter into the bedroom, she refrained from making her usual comment about the general disorder. Amy stood by the bed.
“Where do you want me, Mom?”
“Well, let’s see.” Looking around closely, a small chair with magazines stacked on it appeared to be a good size. “Are you going to take those magazines off that chair?”
“OK.” The chair that was cramped in a corner of the room was soon cleared by placing the magazines on Amy’s bed. “Where should I put it?” Amy picked the chair out of the corner and held it with both hands.
“Only here will do well.” Mrs. Westerhuis pushed aside a small table, leaving an empty space in the middle of the room.
“OK.” Amy repeated as she positioned the chair. “Shall I bend over my back now?” Amy paused and already began to lean halfway over the back of the chair.
“No.” Mrs. Westerhuis said abruptly and stopped the girl. Amy looked back and wondered what else could one wish for. “First, I want you to take off those jeans.”
For a moment Amy looked speechless, but after a moment’s thought, she nodded. “I think that’s fair enough.” Amy made short work of unbuttoning the jeans and sliding them down her shapely legs. She stopped when they were level with her knees. “That’s okay?”
“No, I want to get rid of her right away.”
Another look of surprise crossed the girl’s pretty face, then she quickly shrugged her jeans all the way down and stood on one leg and then the other as she pulled the jeans over her feet. Amy folded them twice and tossed the jeans onto her bed. “Okay now?”
“Better take that top off while you’re at it, honey.”
“My tip?” Amy grabbed her yellow gym shirt and pulled it away from her body.
“It’s long enough to compare to some of your skirts, Amy.”
Amy looked down and saw that the shirt actually reached mid-thigh. “OK.” It took seconds to pull her arms out of the shirt, then slide the garment over her head and slide it off. As that too quickly folded before being tossed onto the bed, Amy paused in a pair of pink cotton knickers and a matching bra. She stood facing her mother with her arms outstretched and silently asked if she was considered ready.
“I guess that’s enough, darling. Would you like to stand facing the back of the chair now?”
Though Amy immediately turned to face the chair, she also asked, “How many can I get mom?”
“As many as necessary so you get punished and I feel like I want you back as my daughter, honey.”
Amy nodded. Suddenly the idea of getting her mom to paddle her felt a little less easy. “I guess you’re really going to tan my butt, aren’t you, mom?”
“If you’re looking for validation, this won’t be a bad experience, honey, I’m afraid I have to disappoint you.”
“I deserve it, Mom.” Amy anxiously stroked the top rail of the chair. “Are you ready for me now?”
“I guess so.”
Amy moved her feet apart, maybe eight or nine inches apart, and shifted her weight from side to side to check the stability of the posture before finally leaning forward and bending directly over the back of the chair. “Is that okay, mom?”
Mrs. Westerhuis stepped forward and held the paddle against the seat of Amy’s short pink panties, right where the paddle would land nicely, to punish that pretty butt. “Can you stick your butt out a little more?”
The paddle was removed while Amy squirmed from side to side, adjusting her position until she felt her butt sticking out more clearly. “How about this, Mom?”
“That looks good, honey.”
While Amy waited for the paddle to be passed over the seat of her underwear once more while her mother checked her aim, the eighteen-year-old found herself in for another surprise.
“Hold still, darling.” Aware that her daughter was preparing for the effects of the first stroke, Ms. Westerhuis liked to play with the girl’s feelings as she grabbed the elastic top of the short panties and pulled them away from Amy’s bottom .
“What are you doing mom?” Amy asked, irritated by the delay.
“I’m about to pull your panties down, honey.”
“What?” exclaimed Amy. “Is that really necessary?”
“Probably not, but then I can see your whole butt getting redder, can’t I?”
“I guess so.” Amy snorted and resigned herself to losing her pants. “Okay, pull her down.”
“You said it.” Slowly and teasingly, Mrs. Westerhuis untied the underwear from her daughter’s buttocks and continued to tug until they were in a tiny heap around Amy’s feet.
“Are we ready now, Mom?”
“First, we have a few ground rules.” Ms. Westerhuis slowly rubbed the paddle in circular motions over the pale cream surface of Amy’s bottom. “You stay down the entire paddling. Get up after a stroke, and that stroke doesn’t count. You don’t rub your butt until it’s all over. You stay down until you’re told to get up. Do you have all that?”
“I think so, mom.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
Ms. Westerhuis stopped the circular rubbing motion and held the paddle still, right in the middle of Amy’s bottom. With a deep breath, she pulled back the paddle and quickly swung it down in a great arc until it crashed loudly over the waiting target.
“Ouch!”
A quick glance at her daughter’s face revealed to Ms Westerhuis that her daughter had indeed suffered punishment from the impact of the paddle. She pulled back the wooden implement and hit him again.
“Ah!”
Although Amy didn’t notice, her mother was struggling to hold the paddle comfortably in one hand. To get a better grip, she used both hands to deliver the third punch.
“Ooooww!!”
“I think that’s better.” Mrs. Westerhuis looked at Amy’s face as she spoke. “Mr. Bradstock has bigger hands than me.”
“Do you use two hands, mom?”
“You guessed it.”
“It’s not fair, Mom.” Amy half sat up to increase her protest.
“If it spanks your butt all the better, then it’s fair.” Mrs. Westerhuis countered. “Now get over the chair again.”
“Oh mother.” Amy felt she had made her point and knew her punishment was well deserved. Amy climbed over the back of the chair again, leaving her bare bottom to the continued use of the paddle.
“Woo-hoo!!” Amy squealed as her mother continued the spanking. Each time the paddle landed, it sent a loud bang across the bedroom, closely followed by an appropriate scream from the eighteen-year-old.
Amy dutifully accepted about nine or ten more strokes before asking again how her mother viewed the paddling. Adjusting her movement to fit between the punches, Amy half rose from the chair.
“Mom! How many more can I get?”
“Like I said, Amy, I’ll keep beating you until I feel you’ve been punished appropriately and until I’m in the mood to treat you like my daughter again. We’re not there yet.”
“So when will we be there, mom?”
“Well, let’s see. Your butt looks nice and red, but I reckon it can take a lot more. Let’s say we’re about halfway there. Now lean forward.”
“Okay, Mom.” Amy sighed, grateful that she had at least put an end to her punishment of some sort. She leaned over the back of the chair and revealed her butt again. “Woo-hoo!”
“You know, honey?” Her mother spoke as she continued to swing the paddle down, about every thirty seconds. “I’m starting to like this paddle. Do you think we should ask Mr. Bradstock to invent one for us?”
“Hm.” Amy ducked the question with a noncommittal grunt.
“So what?” Mrs. Westerhuis paused and looked at the condition of her daughter’s bottom. “Stay down, we’re not done yet.” She added, just in case Amy gets the wrong idea.
“I don’t think my behavior is usually that bad actually mom.”
“No, maybe you’re right.” Ms. Westerhuis conceded. “Anyway, we can always send you back to Mr. Bradstock if we need one.”
Any further comment Amy might have was drowned out by the sound of the paddle smacking her bare bottom again.
By the time five more punches had been delivered firmly, Amy was feeling really quite sore and having trouble keeping still. “Two more.” Mrs Westerhuis told her in anticipation that another protest might be on the way.
Amy took a deep breath, loud enough for her mother to hear, and steeled herself.
“Yeeeooouuch!” Ms. Westerhuis hit harder than ever before.
“Ooooooooowww mom!!!”
“I just wanted to clear up any doubts you might have, Amy.”
“About what?” Amy sat up and started rubbing her butt wildly.
“I don’t know. Maybe about whether I thought you were really sorry for letting your little sister down like that.”
“I was anyway. Even before you hit me.”
Mrs. Westerhuis put an arm around Amy’s shoulders and kissed her daughter on the cheek. “Take a few minutes to sort yourself out, then get dressed and come down. I’ll keep some coffee waiting.”
Grateful to be alone, Amy used a mirror to examine the condition of her butt. It was covered in red spots, darkening to a reddish-brown color in places. She found a tube of cold cream in a drawer and very carefully applied a little, although the initial application was even more painful than the pain from the spanking. It was a few more treatments and a good ten minutes before Amy could get dressed and go to the kitchen.
“Thank you mum.” Amy took the offered coffee. “I’m really sorry about what happened to little Sophie.”
“I know it’s you, darling.” Her mother’s usual warmth seemed to have returned. “Anyway, it’s done. OK?”
Amy nodded and focused on her coffee.
“Friends again?” Mrs. Westerhuis smiled sympathetically as she accepted her daughter’s empty coffee cup.
“I think so, Mom.” Amy replied that thankful good relationships were finally restored.
“Now do you want to take the paddle back to Mr. Bradstock?”
“Ah yes.” Amy looked at the paddle that was now on the table. “Unless you want to?” She looked at her mother hopefully.
“Let’s make this the last part of your punishment.”
The end
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