|
|
I knew many years ago that I had a small penis, and the first couple of girlfriends who went all the way with me had no qualms about letting me know about it.
I had few girlfriends after that. My first wife was cheating on me with two other guys, we were married only a couple years. My second wife and I have been together for 27 years, and she’s been with (sitting down?) no less than 11 other men, most of them multiple times, her favorite (and first) being a guy I was in a band with!
That’s how I found out that I actually liked being told how small I was, after her first time with him. She came home and wanted sex with me, and I know it was only to show me what he had done to her over a 4 hour span of time. She told me that she could barely feel me, and I knew it was true because I honestly had to move from side to side to feel much from her!
And I LOVED IT. I was angry that she had done it, but understood why she had enjoyed it so much at the same time. After that I wanted more and more and more of the same.
We STILL talk about that night, 25 years after the fact. One other one we still talk about was a guy I totally hated, and she did him because she was mad at me, but ended up at his place 8 or 9 times over a 2 month period of time. She let me know about her “activity” with him the first time by coming in, waking me up, and promptly sitting on my face.
Originally posted 2008-05-03 21:00:25.
Mistress Wife Spanks Sub-Hubby
Domestic dominatrix gives her husband a spanking every day – even if he has been good – to remind him of his inferior status.
Strap-on Sex, Feminization, Small Penis Humiliation
I always had a hunch there was something slightly deviant about Susan. She tried to conceal it; I suppose she worried it would frighten me to glimpse her true self. But one evening she lost control; she ripped through the veils imposed on people (especially women) by polite society and unleashed a ferocious side of her libido. No doubt it was a great experience for her: liberating, fulfilling. For my part, my attitude towards sex and women would never be the same.
When Susan became intensely turned on she sometimes got extremely demanding. I noticed this pattern early in our relationship, but this one night she became downright dictatorial. I had cooked dinner for us, we had had a few drinks — she drank more than usual — and we had started watching a videotape. After a few minutes she began making out with me, tigerishly defying my flimsy efforts to stop her and focus on the film. We decided to postpone the movie in favor of some savage fucking.
In the bedroom we stripped nude and began making out on the bed. After a few moments I began gently, teasingly sucking on her left nipple, and making small circles around it with my tongue. Abruptly Susan ordered me to put on her panties. I was startled at first, but found her whim amusing. The panties covered virtually nothing; my cock stuck out boldly from the little slip of sheer fabric as if to say, Even if HE’S going to be subservient, I’M not. Susan ordered me to strike various poses for her, and I obliged. She laughed at me uproariously, and I started to find the situation humiliating. When I began stripping the panties off, though, she grabbed my wrist and insisted, “No! No, I want you to keep them on.”
I did what she wanted. Later I was surprised that I was so amenable to her instructions: I barely even protested when she made me strap on a bra, for example, and then put a short, short dress over the lingerie. I was flustered; I was beet-red, aflame with embarrassment. I felt like I was being yanked out of the role of the man, the assumptive dominator, and being forced not only into submission, but into a very strange act in which I had to basically flaunt my submission.
When I donned her dress, Susan ordered me to dance for her sensually. This was when she really began to surprise me with her aggressiveness: I refused to dance for her and explained while women often indulge men with things like that, “Men just don’t so that sort of thing for women.” I had never seen Susan as explode like she did at that moment; she leapt off the bed — stark naked — glared at me with a smoldering look — it made me turn away — then slapped me in the face. Hard. It actually hurt me, and — I guess I was also totally surprised — I began to feel hot tears in my eyes.
“You are going to dance for me right now, you little shit. Now!”
I guess it was my instinctive stubbornness that made me refuse one more time. Whatever it was, I muttered, my voice muted with anguish, “Like hell I will.”
At that point she grabbed me by the hair and hurled me onto the bed. I fell flat on my face. Right away she jumped on top of me, straddling me, and proceded to spank me. I found the whole situation bizarre and upsetting. There she was, giving me orders to do things I didn’t want to do, and when I refused, she began wailing on my ass. I got really flustered, and while she spanked me mercilessly — she must’ve whacked me more than fifty times, occasionally hammering me with her fist rather than her palm — I began weeping.
At first she was annoyed by this, and only began striking me more viciously. This, in turn, made me cry harder, and finally I was hollering in pain and humiliation. This was the end of the rope; she decided to really lay into me: she plunged her sharp-nailed fingers into my cherry-virgin asshole and told me to stop fucking moping or she’d really maul me. To make the threat more tangible, she reached under me with her other hand and grabbed my balls — damn near popped them in her fist. I shut up instantly, except for a high-pitched whimpering, and this really seemed to entertain her and to make her feel delightfully powerful. She turned me over on my back, lifted up my dress, ripped off my panties, and hissed down at me contemptuously, “Get hard, you pussy wimp: NOW.” When I failed to show signs of arousal instantly, she clutched at my scrotum again, and I had to obey. Susan rode me for the rest of the evening — through countless orgasms — both my cock and my red, puffy face. I had to acknowledge it: she had beaten me up. There was nothing “manly” about me that night. Occasionally these thoughts went through my head while she was riding me, with the consequence that I began to go flaccid, or began to cry again. Whenever either happened, Susan squeezed my nuts or smacked my face some more. For a few days I refused to see her; I refused to answer her calls. I realized — deepening my humiliation even more — that I had become extremely afraid of Susan. I was terrified of her, in fact. Remarkably, that made her all the more exciting. I had never felt so sexually spent as at the end of that evening; I felt like I had been reduced to sexual rubble: like all of my sexual urges had been reduced to dust, and the dust had been blown into oblivion. When I woke up the morning after — in my own house, alone — I masturbated three times, reliving and revelling in the memories of my total subjugation. I felt like I could’ve kept on masturbating until my penis wore away to nothing.
But although it finally dawned on me that I found my liberation from my former, stereotypically conceived “manhood” quite exhilarating and profoundly exciting, my fear of this new, formidable Susan continued to guide my actions, and I continued to ignore her calls and avoid her.
Finally one evening she got fed up. If I had known what she would do that night, I never would’ve distanced her for so long.
Looking back on it now, I still believe Susan was excessively cruel. I’ve become quite a connoisseur of my own pain and humiliation — I’ve come to realize that my sexual purpose is to serve Susan’s whims absolutely, without hesitation or self-interest — but still I feel she was unnecessarily hard on me that night. Even to this day, once in a while she’ll reach out at me and an instantaneous recollection from that evening will flash through my head, causing me to wince or cower. This usually makes her laugh.
What happened? I was cooking dinner — it was hot out, and I was wearing jogging shorts and a T-shirt — when Susan knocked on the door. I had no idea when I opened it that it was her. Instantly, before I could do anything but gawk and notice that there was a large gym bag on the step beside her, she reached out, grabbed my hair, and — with astonishing strength that was fueled by nothing short of rage — she turned me around, bent me backwards so that I was almost falling on my ass — and hammered her fist into my balls. I yelped –I remember it quite clearly: I sounded like a puppy being swatted with an oar — and she did it again and again while I crumbled the floor, sobbing.
Susan was mad, and wanted to teach me a lesson about dissing her.
As soon as I was on the floor clutching at my pulverized nuts, she ripped off my shorts and began kicking my ass. She was wearing her Doc Martin’s, so obviously this was a hellish experience, and I hoped that the neighbors would hear me sobbing and come to my aid. She must’ve gotten this thought herself: with a thick strip of cloth I assume she removed from her gym bag she gagged me, tightly pulling my head back as she knotted it. I could hardly make a sound. My eyes stung with tears, and I trembled with terror: after she gagged me, there was a moment when nothing happened. I was too scared to try to run from her — not to mention I could certainly never walk with the ache in my manly region — and I realized that in a full-out struggle, she’d easily get the better of me.
Even if I weren’t gagged, even if she hadn’t gotten a first shot to my crotch, and even though I did possess superior upper-body strength, I knew that in a fair fight Susan would have me on the ground crying uncle. I realize now that if they weren’t held back by societal programming about their inherent weaknesses, their inferiorities, their obligations to be dainty, etc., women would in general get the upper hand over men in all struggles.
After several moments went by in which nothing happened, I turned around to look at Susan. She was completely undressed, and was doing something with the contents of the bag. She caught me glancing back through my tears, and instantly screamed at me not to look, and slammed the top of her bare foot into my groin. The blow knocked my whole body forward. I wailed through the gag, shedding a new river of years, collapsing there on my hardwood floor with my hands clutching desperately at my Manhood. I felt my balls in my fingers; still hard, loose in their very soft scrotum, aching like they were about to implode to nothing. I felt my poor cock: it was limper than I’d ever felt it before, and must have been reduced to about four inches long. I felt like third-grade school boy who had just been pummelled by an eighth grade young woman.
After a few moments, Susan grabbed me by the hair, tugging my head off the tear-wettened floor. She ripped off the gag, and instantly she grabbed at my lower jaw, pulled my mouth open, and shoved a massive, thick dildo into my face. The thing was HUGE; it must have been twelve inches long, and she had to hammer it into my mouth like a crucifix into the ground. She shoved me hard onto my back and, with her hips over my face, pounded that awful dildo into my face again and again. When I began weeping like an abandoned baby, she began punching me in the face. This just made things worse — didn’t silence me at all — though she gave me a black eye that lasted for more than two weeks, so she spun around into a 69 position and pulled apart my legs.
For a moment she stared down silently at my Manhood, then she burst into laughter. No doubt it was smaller than she’d ever seen it; no doubt my testicles were hiding inside my body like frightened cockroaches.
I felt her spit on my nuts.
“You know what I’m going to do, boy?” She taunted me, all the while hammering the dildo rhythmically into my mouth, “I’m going to take your little tiny balls into my mouth and I’m going to bite them off with my teeth. Then I’m going to spit your teeny-weeny testes into the toilet.” She laughed again, and struck her tongue down on my tender groin.
I remember being hysterical when she sucked my balls up into her mouth. I remember trembling, nearly convulsing while she began to apply her teeth to the little cords leading from my nuts to my body.
But she didn’t do it. I was surprised by this, and I realized then that she wanted me to be able to maintain the illusion of my manliness, so that she could again and again, thoughout our lives, tear it down in front of me. My balls were the ultimate symbol of my manliness, and she wanted me to continue being a Man, because she knew that made me inferior to her.
Susan released my nuts from her mouth, then drew the dildo out of me.”You know, boyfriend,” she said, position the dildo down my groin, “I want to point something out to you.”
She grabbed my hair from behind, and made me look forward.
“You see this?” She tapped her twelve-inch dildo into my groin.
“You see? This is what a Real Man looks like. Long. Hard. And now look at you.”
She reached down and, using her fingernails, clutched at my limp Manhood. It was all of four inches long.
“You’re not a man,” she hissed at me. “Look at this! Look!” She poked her penis against mine, compared them, and laughed at me while I wept.”You barely even have a cock! You’re not a Man! You don’t even have real balls: yours are tiny: they’re barely as big as golf balls. That’s what real men are like, though, aren’t they? Lots of cheap posturing. When it comes to the moment of truth, all men are Soft and Tiny. No balls, no brains.”
She squeezed my testicles again, causing me to whimper once more, then spat hot spit on my little Manhood.
“Roll over, you little fucking man.”
I obeyed immediately, and without any consideration for my pleasure — without any lubricants, for example — she began raping me. She plunged her penis into my poor asshole mercilessly, and I could do nothing to stop her. After a few thrusts, she reached down under me and gripped my genitals with her right hand while she shafted me. She held me like this, stabbing me with her superior cock, holding my tiny Manhood in her strong fingers, for nearly an hour, before beginning to feel pity for me. I was bleeding out of my ass. I had lost my voice entirely.
She took her penis off, turn me on my back, and sat with her Vagina within reach of my tongue.
“Tell me, now. Are you the so-called Man, or am I?”
I stared up at her blankly, incapable of thought.
“You are,” she informed me. “You’re the man. And I don’t want you to ever forget what being a man feels like.” She reached behind her, once more striking my injured balls. Then she shoved her pussy over my face.
“Now eat me well. Eat your natural master.”
I obeyed. And I’ve obeyed her ever since, because when I don’t obey her, I am nothing.
Men aren’t meant to be nothing. They’re meant to be slaves.
Female led corporal punishment insures the man knows his place.
Originally posted 2012-03-04 07:54:45.
Gynarchic Behavior Modification Center Spanking
After my first trip to the Behavior Modification Center, I was really careful about how I was treating women. So I was very surprised when I received another red letter in the mail. It said, “This is notification that you have broken various laws and have been disrespectful to women. Your indiscretions have been caught on our cameras and recorded. You are to report to the Behavior
Modification Center at xxx address at 7 PM on 8/25/2018. If you do not report to the Behavior Modification Center within a half-hour of the appointed time, you will be arrested and the consequences will be even greater. However, you may also arrive up to one-half hour earlier than your appointed time. Wear casual clothing and expect your appointment to last up to two hours. You will receive discipline and behavior correction for the laws that you have broken. It is recommended that you do not schedule any other activities after your appointment. Be sure to check in at the registration desk as soon as you arrive.
Continued from: Spanked for Disrespecting Women (Matriarchal Society Punishment)
Be aware that this will be the second time that you have needed to report to the Behavior Modification Center.
The Women’s Patrol Unit”
I remembered the severe spanking that I had received, and I wasn’t looking forward to be spanked again.
Like the last time, I got off of work early, and arrived at the Behavior Modification Center at 6:45 PM. When I reported to the reception desk, the receptionist said, “Many things have changed since your first visit here.” She handed me a clipboard with a paper in it. “Please read this over, sign it, and then return it to me.”
By signing the paper, I swore that I would not tell other men about my experiences in the Behavior Modification Center. I also acknowledged that I was to remain silent and only speak when spoken to. There were also many minor rules such as how I should address the women when I was permitted to speak.
The paper also stated that the center had been recently remodeled, and that some of the procedures had been changed. I signed the paper and handed the clipboard back to the receptionist. “Someone will be with you shortly. Please have a seat.”
The center also had the same rulebooks for you to read while you waited for your name to be called and I was surprised to see the large number of men who were in the waiting room.
Soon, a very young woman who was wearing a white uniform called my name. “
Clyde, my name is Jane. Please follow me.” We walked down a long hallway until we got to a room called, ‘Prep Room Eight’. Like last time, the room had some benches in it, some lockers, and a large television screen on the wall.
“Have a seat and watch the screen in front of you.” Next I saw myself in situations where I was acting very disrespectful and a real jerk to women.
After each situation it told how many demerit points I was getting for this poor behavior. At the end of all of the incidents, the screen said I had a total of fifty points, ten more than the last time at the Behavior Modification Center.
Jane then turned to me and said, “Clyde, I want you to undress and put your clothes in the empty locker. You may keep your socks on, if you like.” Then she just stood there and looked at me.
The last time, I was given a thin gown to wear and some slippers, so I asked,
“Aren’t you going to give me a gown to wear and some slippers like last time?”
“Clyde, you now have earned two extra demerit points for talking out of turn and not addressing properly. Our procedures have changed from your first visit to the center. We had to change them because of the large number of men who needed their behaviors corrected. So be sure you address anyone who works here as “madam”, and start getting undressed. I am going to stay in the room and then escort you to the punishment room.”
I didn’t want any more demerit points, so I started to get undressed. I felt embarrassed having to undress in front of a young woman who I had just met.
When I got down to my boxer shorts, I hesitated. “Those come off, too.” Jane said. “Be quick about it. There are many men waiting to be punished.”
“Yes, madam.” I quickly replied as I put my shorts in the locker.
“That’s better.” Jane said. “Now come over here with your hands on top of your head.” Jane was now seated on one of the benches. I had an erection as she examined my penis and balls. “Now turn around so that I may examine your ass.” I turned around and felt her hands all over my ass. “How has it been since you were here last?”
“About six weeks, madam.”
“Because you can’t tell if you have ever been punished, before. But that will change in a few moments. Now turn around and spread your legs so that I may put a lead collar on you. Be sure and keep you hands on top of your head.”
Then to my surprise, she took a small leather strap and fastened it to the base of my penis and balls. Then she connected a chain to it.
“Now I am going to lead you down the hallway to the correction room. Be sure to keep your hands on top of your head and only speak if spoken to.”
Then she pulled me by my penis and balls down the hallway. They had remodeled the center so there was no longer another waiting room, and there were now many more correction rooms. I also passed many other men with their hands on top of their heads, and being lead by a chain attached to their penis and balls. I felt so humiliated being led around the center in this manner.
Soon we got to ‘Correction Room Number 20′. Jane opened up the door and we walked in. This room looked different from the other room I was punished in.
It still had the many whips, crops, paddles, etc on the walls, but the spanking bench was different. It was like a large stainless steel table that had a large ledge on it, which was padded. There was also a small mirror that was attached to the middle of one end of the table structure.
Jane sat down on a chair and said, “Come over here so that I can take off your chain.” She fondled my erection as she took off the chain. Then she stood up and went over to the wall and turned a dial that lowered the bench closer to the floor. “You can lower your arms. Go over to the spanking bench and kneel on the padded ridge with your arms stretched out in front of you.”
“Yes, madam.” I said as I knelt and stretched my arms out in front of me.
First, Jane fastened a strap around my waist to keep me in place. Then some more straps secured my arms and wrists. Next, my ankles and thighs were secured in place. Now, no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t move.
Jane went over to the wall again, and to my surprise, the spanking bench started to move. Soon my head was close to the floor and my naked ass was sticking up high in the air. Jane turned another dial and soon my legs were being spread apart. Now I felt really vulnerable, with my ass sticking up in the air, and my penis and balls dangling between my spread apart legs.
With the small mirror that was mounted on the spanking bench in front of me, I could watch what was happening in back of me. Jane picked up a clipboard and said, “I see that Nancy will punish you, again. I will be back for you after your punishment.” Then Jane left the room. I couldn’t hear much because the room was soundproofed, so all I could think about was how vulnerable I was in this position.
After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened and Nancy walked in. She picked up the clipboard and said, “I’m Nancy, your correction officer. By your records, it looks like I punished you the last time you visited us. I see that you earned fifty demerit points plus two points for talking out of turn in the short time you have been here. That means you will receive twenty SWATs of the paddle, twenty SWATs from a tawse, ten SWATs from a riding crop, and eight strokes from the cane. Do you have any questions?”
“No, madam,” I replied.
“Good. So I may as well get started. But first let me adjust the bench a little more.” Nancy raised the bench a little higher and angled it down a little. Now my ass was really sticking up in the air and unprotected. She went over to the wall near me and selected a paddle. Then in the mirror in front of me, I could watch her position herself in back of me to start my punishment.
SWAT, SWAT, SWAT.
Nancy was using the paddle to make sure every inch of my bare ass turned red with fire. She even used the paddle on the tops of my thighs.
SWAT, SWAT, SWAT
“That’s twenty with the paddle, now the tawse.” She hung up the paddle and next I saw her grab a tawse with many long leather fingers on it. The last time the tawse was used on me, it really stung. I could feel the leather fingers wrap around my whole ass at the same time. They also went into the tenderest parts of my ass, since I was bent over with my legs stretched apart.
SWAT, SWAT, SWAT
Now my whole ass felt like it was on fire, again. “Your ass has now turned a nice red shade.” Nancy said. “You should be able to feel this punishment for a whole week.”
SWAT. SWAT, SWAT
“Now it’s time for the riding crop. I like to have fun with this!” Nancy teased me by flicking it in my armpits, and along my sides. Then she would surprise me with pain as it crashed up my upturned ass. I didn’t know what to expect, a little pleasure or a lot of pain. Nancy also flicked it between my legs. Although my ass felt like it was on fire, it caused me to keep an erection. The ten SWATs seemed to take forever since she was teasing me so much.
Then she hung the riding crop on the wall and pulled down several canes. She swished them in the air next to me and I could hear the distinctive whistle of the cane. Nancy selected a cane and put the others back on the wall. “This one should do nicely.”
Next a heard a speaker on the wall say, “Nancy, is it alright if a tour with four young girls observe you?”
“All I have left is eight strokes of the cane, but you can go ahead and send them in”.
It was bad enough being punished like this, but I didn’t want to be observed in this position. “Please, no. Please don’t let them see me like this!” I pleaded.
Nancy went to the wall and grabbed a gag. She shoved it in my mouth and quickly tied it around my head. “You know better than to complain like that.
Now you have earned an extra stroke of the cane.”
I heard the door open and I saw four teenage girls enter the room. “My Name is Nancy and this is Clyde. I have just given him twenty SWATs from the paddle, twenty SWATs from the tawse, and ten SWATs from the riding crop. Now he will receive nine strokes from the cane.”
“My we feel his red ass?” One girl asked.
“Yes, go ahead.” Nancy said.
Then I felt eight hands feeling me all over. They were even grabbing my penis and balls. “His ass feels real hot. Why isn’t he complaining?”
“If you notice, I put a gag on him right before you came in. That way he can’t complain.” Nancy said. “Now stand back so that I can finish his punishment.”
Then I felt the tip of the cane on my already tender and sore ass. I could see her draw back her arm in the mirror, then Whish, Crack. It felt like a hundred bees had stung me in a row. I wiggled about, trying to free myself from the leather straps that were keeping me in place because of the so great.
“See him move about. That is because the cane is so painful.” Nancy told the girls.
Whish, Crack.
The second stroke felt like a line of fire on my ass.
Whish, Crack.
The caning continued until I received my nine strokes. “I need to leave to punish the next man,” Nancy said to the girls. “You can examine him all you want to. Just leave his gag on and him strapped down. And Clyde,
Jane will be back in a few minutes to escort you back to your clothes.”
The door shut and I was left in the room with four curious girls. They were running their fingers along the nine parallel welts that were left by the cane.
My penis and balls were also being fondled by them. I felt double punished.
First by Nancy with her paddle, tawse, crop and cane, and now being touched and examined by these four teenage girls.
I heard the door open and Jane walked in. “Who are you?” Jane asked the girls.
“We are taking a tour of the facilities and Nancy said we could stay and examine how she had punished Clyde.” One of the girls said.
“Yes, Nancy does do a good job with punishing the men who come here. But you better get along with your tour, because I need to get Clyde dressed and out of here so that we can punish some more men.” Then the girls finally left the room.
Jane took the straps off me as well as the gag. “Stand up with your hands on your head so I can attach the chain to you. Be sure to stay quiet.” Then she connected the chain back onto the thin strap that was around the base of my penis and balls. I was lead down the hall in this fashion, again. My ass really burned and was sore, but I had to keep my hands on my head. This time, some women stopped Jane so that they could examine my sore red ass. They asked Jane who had punished me and were delighted to see my sore red ass.
When we got back to ‘Prep Room Eight’, Jane opened the door and said, “Keep your hands on your head as I unhook you. Then you can get dressed and leave.
I hope that you have learned your lesson and we will never see you again.”
Even though my ass really hurt, I still had an erection from the thin strap being around my penis and balls. But I quickly got dressed and left the Behavior Modification Center. I had a pillow in the vehicle so that the ride home wouldn’t be so painful. I felt that punishment for a whole week.
Gynarchic Government Spanked Rude Male
This scenario happens about ten to fifteen years from now. The world is a lot different place than how we know it today. The scientists have figured out a way for anybody to be identified by sensors that are placed everywhere. Our own unique electro-magnetic field now identifies us, which is around our bodies. This is produced because our body contains a lot of water, and a small amount of electricity runs through us. There are now cameras everywhere, recording our every move.
In politics and the economy, women are no longer up against a glass ceiling. Women are now in control of a lot of the industry and government. The cameras also have face recognition, and if you do anything against the law, it is recorded and you are notified about the incident. Women who run the system are now about to track down men who are really jerks to women in public. Men are notified by mail to report to a behavior modification center where they are shown their indiscretions, and then have to pay the penalty for them. The following is a story about a man who received such a notice of indiscretion.
***
When I got home from work I checked my mailbox. There was a large red envelope in the mailbox marked urgent. I had heard about these red letters from my other male friends, but I was surprised to get one. I have always been very respectful to women when I have been in public and in private. When I opened the red envelope, the letter read:
“This is notification that you have broken various laws and have been disrespectful to women. Your indiscretions have been caught on our cameras and recorded. You are to report to the Behavior Modification Center at xxx address at 7 PM on 8/18/2018. If you do not report to the Behavior Modification Center within a half-hour of the appointed time, you will be arrested and the consequences will be even greater. However, you may also arrive up to one-half hour earlier than your appointed time.
Wear casual clothing and expect your appointment to last up to two hours. You will receive discipline and behavior correction for the laws that you have broken. It is recommended that you do not schedule any other activities after your appointment. Be sure to check in at the registration desk as soon as you arrive.
The Women’s Patrol Unit”
I was hoping to watch a baseball game on that night, but now I guess my plans will be changed. Some of my friends have already had to report to the Behavior Modification Center, but they wouldn’t tell me what happened during the appointment. I guess you have to sign a paper saying you will not reveal what happens to you.
I got off of work at 4 PM, so I had plenty of time to drive home, eat supper, and get ready for my appointment. The Behavior Modification Center was easy to find and had plenty of free parking round it. I arrived fifteen minutes early; to be sure I wasn’t late. There was a large round reception desk once I walked in, and I quickly checked in.
“It’s good that you are a little early. Please have a seat and someone will be with you shortly.” The young receptionist told me with a big smile. Once I was seated, I was surprised to see that the only reading materials were rulebooks on how women should be treated. I guess they really wanted you to be aware of how a man should behave around women. After about three minutes, a nice looking young woman with a clipboard called out my name.
“My name is Julie. Please follow me.”
We went down a long corridor and she opened a door called “Prep Room Three”.
Inside was a large viewing screen, lockers, and some benches to sit on.
“Please have a seat and watch the screen.”
Next I saw videos of me being a real jerk towards women. Before each video, it showed the date, time, and location of each incident. At the end of each video, it showed demerit points. I was surprised at how many videos they had of me treating women very badly. At the end of the last video it showed that I had accumulated 40 demerit points.
“The next step of your behavior modification is for you to take off all of your street clothes, put them in the locker, and put on this gown and slippers. Then walk down the hallway to the “Waiting for Correction’ room. Have a seat, and someone will be with you shortly. After your correction, I will escort you back to this room so that you can change back to your clothes and then you will be free to go home.”
Julie handed me a gown and slippers and then walked out of the room. Once my clothes were in the locker, I put on the gown. It was a thin hospital type gown that opened in the back. It was just long enough to go down to my knees and I felt very exposed in it.
I walked down the corridor to a room marked “Waiting for Correction”. There were about five other men seated on chairs and dressed only in a gown like I was. I seated myself, and the literature to read had to do with how to treat a woman properly.
The names of the other men were called, and now I was the only man in the waiting room. Soon, a tall and large looking woman called my name. She was dressed in a nurse’s uniform and had a clipboard.
“Follow me to your correction room.” She said. When we reached a door called “Correction Room Five”, she opened the door and said, “This is where I will deal with you behavior modification. Please enter, don’t say a word and follow my orders.”
The room had a metal SPANKing bench, with a lot of straps, in the of the room.
The walls were full of various whips, paddles, canes, and other SPANKing implements.
“Spread your legs and stand still,” she said. Then she got out a tape measure and took a measurement from the floor to my penis. After that, she went over to the wall and adjusted the SPANKing bench.
“My name is Nancy and I will be correcting your behavior. You have received forty demerit points, which means you will receive twenty swats from the paddle, twenty swats with the tawse, and six strokes of the cane. All of your punishment will be given all your bare bottom. Have you ever been to a Behavior Modification Center before?”
“No,” I replied. “This is my first time.”
“By your records, it looked like it was your first time. So I will guide you through the process. First, take off your gown, give it to me, and then bend over the SPANKing bench. Don’t worry. I have seen plenty of naked men.” While still facing the SPANKing bench, I handed Nancy my gown and bent over the SPANKing bench. I was now very aware that I was totally naked and about to be strapped to the bench.
“Spread your legs apart,” Nancy said.
I felt Nancy secure my ankles and upper thighs to the bench. The bench had a protrusion, which made my bottom stick up high. It also made me very aware of my penis and balls dandling between my legs which were spread apart. Next, I felt a wide waist strap secure me to the bench.
“Now drop your arms down to the floor.” Then I felt Nancy put wrist cuffs on me and my arms were now secured to the bench.
“This room is soundproofed so no one will hear you, but do you want a gag?” Nancy asked.
“No, I think I should be okay without one,” I replied.
“If you look in front of you, there is a mirror so that you can watch me punish you. If you want, I can blindfold you.”
“I think I’ll be alright without a blindfold.” I said.
“Good. Then I will start your punishment with my favorite paddle.” I saw Nancy pull a paddle off the wall. Next I felt her hands on my bare bottom and fondling my penis and balls. “You have a nice white round bottom. It should be fun for me to make it all red and hurt.”
“Just SPANK me and get my punishment over with!” I yelled out. It was embarrassing enough to be naked and about to be SPANKed, but it was even more embarrassing for me to have her fondle my body.
“Rule number one. Do not speak unless spoken to. If you speak out again, I will gag you.”
Now I felt totally helpless. Nancy continued to fondle my body and then I saw her pull back the paddle for my first swat.
SPANK
I wasn’t expecting the swat to sting me so much. I tried to squirm around, but the straps held me in place.
SPANK
This swat really hurt. “Ouch!” I yelled out. “Do you have to SPANK me that hard?” I asked.
“I warned you about talking.” Nancy said. I saw her walk over to the wall and soon she was securing a gag into my mouth. Now I was unable to talk. “That should keep you quiet for the rest of your punishment.”
SPANK, SPANK, SPANK
I really wanted to complain about how much the SPANKing stung my naked bottom, but since I was gagged, I couldn’t say anything.
At the end of my twenty SPANKs of the paddle, Nancy said, “Now you bottom is turning a nice red color. This punishment should have a good affect on your behavior. You will now receive twenty swats with the tawse.”
I saw Nancy replace the paddle on the wall and pick up the tawse. It looked like it would hurt a lot more than the paddle and it sure did. After twenty swats of the tawse, my bottom really hurt. I felt like I couldn’t take anymore.
Then to my surprise, there was a knock on the door and a girl who looked about twenty years old walked into the room. “Do you have time to fit one more punishment before you leave?” she asked.
“I guess so,” Nancy replied. I saw the young woman look at my bare bottom and then she said, “Good, I’ll schedule him as your next appointment. Say, your doing a good job punishing this guy. Do you mind if I feel his red hot bottom.”
“Go ahead!” Nancy said.
Next I felt the young girl’s hands all over my naked bottom. I felt even more embarrassed than before. She even grasped my penis and balls.
“His bottom feels really hot and I think he is reacting to this SPANKing. He should feel his punishment for a week. Thanks for taking the next appointment.
I’ll see you later.” Then the young girl left the room.
Nancy now reached between my wide spread legs and grasped my penis and balls.
“My, my. You are reacting to this SPANKing. You probably won’t be so hard after you get the six strokes of the cane. But for this part of your punishment, you get the blindfold.”
Soon my eyes were covered, I couldn’t talk because of my gag, and I was still secured to this metal SPANKing bench. All I could do was to wait for the pain of the cane. I felt the cane tap my naked sore bottom, heard a whistle, then
SWAT
It really stung me. It felt like a lot of bees had stung my bare bottom in a straight line. I tried to squirm around, but I was secured to the bench.
Tap, whistle, SWAT
“Only four more and your punishment will be over with.” Nancy said. The second stroke felt like my bare bottom was burning in a straight line.
Tap, whistle, SWAT
Now I felt like I was going to faint from the pain.
Tap, whistle, SWAT
“Only two more left.”
Tap, whistle, SWAT
“This next stroke will be your last one, then your punishment will be over with.” I felt like my bottom was a burning ball of flesh, but I had no choice but to receive the last stroke of the cane.
Tap, whistle, SWAT
I now wanted nothing more than to rub my burning bare bottom. “You took your punishment very well. I am going to leave you secured to the SPANKing bench. Julie will be in shortly to let you loose from the bench. I hope that I will never need to punish you again.” Then I heard the door closed.
It seemed like hours before someone walked into the room. I could tell that it was Julie when she said, “Nancy does a great job in punishing the men who come in here. Your bottom is bright red with six parallel stripes from the cane.”
Then I felt her hands all over my bare bottom.
First, Julie took off my blindfold, then my gag, and then I could watch her release my wrists, ankles, and waist strap. As soon as I was totally released, my hands quickly went back to rub my bare bottom. I guess I gave Julie quite a view of my naked body, but at this point I didn’t care since my poor bottom hurt so much.
Julie then handed me my gown, and she escorted me back to the room with my street clothes. “Once you are dressed, you are free to leave. I suggest you rub lotion on your bottom once you get home. I will make it less painful for you.”
I dressed and as I left the Modification Center the receptionist said, “You better treat women with respect or your next punishment will be even worst.”
“I hope to never come back here again.” I yelled back as I went out of the door. I was very hard to even sit down and vehicle my car home. Now I will treat women with a lot of respect.
Continued in Man Spanked for Being Rude to Women (Matriarchal Society Punishment)
More images of dominant woman from the covers of female led relationship fantasy Madame magazine.
Which dominant woman is your fantasy Mistress?
My thanks to Bibliophile.
Is the young dominatrix on the cover the Goddess of Darkness?
To read the longer continued stories use the Table of Contents.
Originally posted 2011-11-20 05:10:31.
The Boss, another glossy Femdom magazine with models dressed as and performing as dominatrices.
To read the longer continued stories use the Table of Contents.
|
|
