Spanking desires from Mom

I was never spanked growing up, but had already developed an “interest,” which I suppose was a fetish before I knew that word, at an early age. I didn’t know what I was destined to not get spanked, I thought it was a real possibility I could get punished that way if I misbehaved badly-enough. There was a handful of times my Mom threatened to spank, but in retrospect, I think they were idle threats and she wasn’t actually going to follow through.

My embarrassing and naughty confession is that I wish, even if it were just one time, I really did get a spanking, just to end the curiosity and obsession of what it’s like.

It was very conflicting, because I was genuinely afraid of getting a real punishment spanking. But I was insanely obsessed with the idea nonetheless. As I got to early teen years, I even entertained the idea of trying to intentionally get Mom to spank me. I thought about passively dropping hints, or suggesting it as an alternative punishment, or even writing a note outright asking for it.

I was too embarrassed and scared to ever work up the nerve to go through with it, and it’s always felt disappointing looking back.

I know that in reality this probably never would have happened. But I really do wish somehow, someway, I could have gotten that spanking which I feel like I deserved and missed-out on.

I like to daydream the perfect scenario for a way it could have happened. There was a day when I was 12 and was behaving badly all day, had a bad attitude, and back talking. Mom sent me to my room to think about my behavior, and that was it, just being “sent to my room” was the punishment — basically nothing.

In my mind, what I wish had happened was I used that time to write Mom a note apologizing for my bad attitude and ask her to spank me. I’d slip the note on her dresser and wait for her to find it.

I imagine the nervous feeling of sitting in my room waiting, knowing it’s too late to task either back now that I’ve gone through with it, but unsure how she’d react. What I wish for is that after nervously waiting for an hour, I hear footsteps down the hall and Mom enters my room, carrying the note.

She sits with me and we have a long talk and, even if it’s embarrassing, it feels slightly relieving to “clear the air.” But despite that small relief, I’m still very nervous and have butterflies in my stomach as the conversation goes on, she starts to agree with the note and tells me that she is going to give it a try.

I gulp, realizing what I’ve gotten myself into and she states plainly, “I am going to give you a good, old-fashioned spanking right now.” Even though she’s never spanked before, she seems to know exactly the classic way to give a serious maternal punishment, not taking it easy just because it’s the first.

She stands me up in front of her and she unbuckles my belt, unsnaps my pants, unzips the fly, and pulls my pants all the way down. Then she grasps the waistband of my white cotton briefs and pulls them all the way down, baring me completely. She pulls me across her lap and while I’m lying there with my bare behind up in the air, she reiterates that I’m getting this spanking for my bad attitude and back-talking.

Then she begins my spanking in earnest. It hurts far more than I ever thought a hand spanking would. She spanks over and over, alternating my bare cheeks and covering every part of my buns and sit spots. It’s relentless and the sting and burning grows and grow. I quickly begin crying, wiggling, kicking, but the spanking goes on and on. As I continue crying, I begin to stop convulsing and just sob.

Once I reach that point of acceptance, Mom decides I’ve been thoroughly punished and lets me cry it out on her lap for a while.

Finally, I’ve gotten a very through bare-bottom spanking that I richly deserved. I finally know what it feels like to be a naughty boy getting spanked over his Mom’s lap.