A Not So Self Spanking Pt 01

I was requested by a reader to write a story on self spanking. Which sparked my curiosity so I did some 'research' on the net and became enthralled at the videos of people administering their own punishment. So here is my story. It is in two parts, 'The Awakening' and 'Out of the Closet'. The first part features self spanking, while the second is, well, you will see.

*****

Part 1: The Awakening

It took a lot of courage for me to admit to my husband of twelve years that I like to spank myself. Even writing it down on this page makes me feel embarrassed to admit it. Shamefully I have been into self spanking since I was a teen. It all started when my school friend, Rosalie, and I had been on a high school tramping trip. Because we were arriving back late I had arranged to spend the night at Rosalie's house.

It was after 11pm and Rosalie's parents had told us several times to settle down and go to sleep. I was giggling and whispering to Rosalie instead of going to sleep. Rosalie told me to be quiet or she would get into big trouble with her Mum and Dad. When I ignored her, she picked up her pillow and threw it at me. Unfortunately her throwing was terrible as the pillow flew straight over my head and hit her bookcase that contained trophies, glass ornaments and a lampshade. It seemed that just about everything came tumbling down in a terrible noise.

A few seconds later Rosalie's Mum came storming into the room. Rosalie desperately apologised to her obviously very angry mother. To my utter shock Rosalie was hauled out of bed by her mother and told to stand beside it. Incredibly Rosalie was then ordered by her Mum to lower her pyjama bottoms to her ankles. I will never forget the look of utter humiliation on Rosalie's face.

She pleaded with her mother to not make her do it in front of me. However she was not in a forgiving mood, and told Rosalie she should have thought of that before disobeying her. Her mother repeated her command and reticently Rosalie lowered her pyjama bottoms, exposing her white cotton panties.

'And the panties!" her mother ordered.

I was agog. I had never witnessed anything like this in my entire young life. My parents never spanked me or any of my two siblings. I realised I was holding my breath and my mouth was wide open. I knew I should say something. I knew I should tell Rosalie's Mum that it my fault, not poor Rosalie's. But even though my mouth was open, no words would come out.

Rosalie pleaded not to have to lower her panties, but her mother was insistent.

"You know you always get spanked on your bare bottom, don't you?"

"Yes, mother," Rosalie responded limply.

I could not believe what I was hearing. Rosalie is eighteen and still gets spanked. Oh my gawd, that is unbelievable. And to make matters worse she is spanked on her bare bottom. I thought that if this happened to me I would die of shame.

Without further argument Rosalie turned her back to me and lowered her panties to below her knees. I remember thinking how snowy white her butt was.

Without further ceremony, her mother gripped hold of her shoulder and commenced giving her a severe hand spanking that just seemed to go on forever. Rosalie was crying and doing a little jig in a vain attempt to lessen the impact of the spanks. I don't think I moved a muscle during the whole sequence. I was both shocked and spellbound.

When her mother was satisfied her daughter had been sufficiently punished she was told to put her nose in the corner before she could return to her bed. Rosalie shuffled over, her pyjama bottoms and panties both around her ankles. She made no attempt to pull them up so it was obvious she knew her time in the corner was to be spent with her bare bottom exposed. I couldn't help stealing a glance at Rosalie's naked bottom. What had previously been snowy white flesh was now a deep pink and almost red. I was transfixed and felt flushed and lightheaded.

Suddenly I was aware Rosalie's Mum was talking to me. She was shaking a finger and telling me I was damn lucky I was also not getting spanked, but she couldn't do that without my own parent's agreement. I felt like I was going to faint. She ordered me to get to sleep and she didn't want to hear another peek from me until the morning. I didn't dare speak again the whole night.

Although I pretended to close my eyes I kept one slightly open so that I could stare at Rosalie who was sniffling, bare butt, in the corner. After the ten minutes I saw Rosalie gracefully bend down, pull up her panties and pyjamas and climb into the double bed she was sharing with me. I wanted to whisper to her how sorry I was for getting her into trouble, but dared not speak.

She turned her back to me and curled up in a foetal position, with her legs tucked up. Her buttocks were only inches away from me. I so much wanted to reach out and place my hands on her reddened flesh. I imagined how warm it would feel. It was nothing sexual. I didn't crave touching her intimately, I just for some reason wanted to touch her spanked bottom.

Eventually I fell into a fitful sleep and in the morning nothing was said about the spanking. However it was the elephant in the room for the next few hours until my parents picked me up. As I was leaving I put my hand on Rosalie's shoulder and quietly mumbled how sorry I was. Rosalie blushed and looked away.

Over the next months I often found myself lying in bed thinking about the Rosalie spanking, but I never knew why. Yes, I felt bad about her getting spanked when it was as much my fault as hers. In fact it could be argued I was even more to blame because if I had shut up and gone to sleep like her mother had told me to then nothing bad would have happened. However I knew it was probably not that big a deal and I should just forget about it. Obviously Rosalie got spanked by her parents fairly often so the chances are Rosalie has got over it. So why couldn't I?

But I couldn't forget it. I kept visualising Rosalie having to lower her pyjamas and knickers in front of me and her mother. I can still vividly see the intense embarrassment etched on her face. I kept visualising that it was me standing there with my panties around my ankles. I can feel my cheeks flushed with a mortal shame.

It was about six months later when things began to change for me. I was lying in bed at home. My parent's bedroom is downstairs, while my older brother and sister plus myself sleep upstairs in three separate bedrooms with a shared bathroom. Recently I had not been thinking of the Rosalie spanking incident anywhere near as much, but on this particular night I found myself unable to sleep and my mind drifted back to that evening. The whole scene with Rosalie and her Mum played over in my mind as clear as if I was watching a movie. I could clearly see the shame on Rosalie's face as the events unfolded.

As the events replayed in my mind I realised my heart was beating rapidly and I was flushed. I had recently turned eighteen and was still a virgin. I had a steady boyfriend and although we had engaged in some heavy petting we had not had sex. The furthest he had got was his hand up my blouse and squeezing my boobs through my bra.

This only happened a couple of times and I wouldn't let him go any further. It was not so much that I was a prude. It was just that I was intensely embarrassed by my own body. Even though I was now eighteen my body was taking its time to blossom. To me, I felt like I looked like a boy. I was skinny with not much of a waist and my boobs were really small. They were an A-cup. My own mother has small breasts so I suspected I would never have big full boobs like some of my friends. But Lord, give me a break! A girl prefers something bigger than an A-cup.

As I lay in bed I almost unconsciously found my hand wandering under my pyjamas and panties before sliding down to my pussy. I had never really been one to masturbate and although I occasionally played with myself down there it was mostly to make me relax in bed. Invariably I fell asleep with my hand between my legs, enjoying the sensation of my fingers stroking my labia.

However, when my fingers touched my labia on this night I felt puffiness and moisture like I had never encountered before. In shock I retracted my hand. To my amazement I realised I was aroused. Slowly I placed my hand down between my legs again and touched my lips. I might have been a sexual novice but there was no doubting I was very aroused.

Confusion mixed with guilt as I realised that just thinking about Rosalie's spanking had turned me on. I pulled my blankets up tight around my neck as if this would somehow hide my arousal. I lay on my back, listening to the total quietness that enveloped our house in the middle of the night. I glanced at my bedside clock and realised it was after midnight. All I could hear was my own panting.

I tried to shut out my thoughts of Rosalie, but failed badly. I could feel my own lubrication moistening the top of my thighs that I had squeezed together tightly. I was feeling even more flushed. I found myself lowering my blankets and sitting on the side of my bed. It was almost as if someone else was controlling my body and I was the puppet. I stood up and faced my bed. I was dressed in my favourite pair of pyjamas. They were at least two sizes too big for me but had been given to me by my Grandma who I loved dearly. I was also wearing some plain cotton panties that I used for sleeping in.

For a long moment I stood beside the bed, unsure as to why I was standing there. But then I heard a silent command in my head to remove my pyjama top. I looked nervously at my bedroom door. The door couldn't be locked so there was no way I could prevent anyone from entering. I knew my parents and siblings always knocked before entering my room, but I was still anxious.

Still facing my bed, I unbuttoned my pyjama top, removed it, then folded it up and placed it on the bed. I couldn't stop myself from clasping my arms in front of my small breasts. I felt exposed, which was kind of crazy given I was all alone in my bedroom. Silently I commanded myself to remove my pyjama bottoms. After another furtive glance at my bedroom door I quickly lowered my pyjamas and stepped out of them before folding them and also placing them on the bed.

I was standing there dressed only in my knickers. It shouldn't have been a big deal as I was in the privacy of my own bedroom, in the middle of night with the light off. But I knew my body was aroused and I was experiencing a sexualised tension that was new to me. Even though it was me standing beside the bed, I knew that in my mind I picturing myself as Rosalie. I was the naughty girl being admonished by her mother. I looked down at my feet submissively.

The mother in my head ordered me to remove my knickers and place them on the bed. Forcing myself not to glance at the door, I slid my fingers under my waistband and lowered then to my ankles. I slipped them off and held them in my hand. I was appalled at how moist they were. I had never excreted juices from my pussy like that before. I felt a strange mixture of embarrassment and sexual excitement.

I placed the panties on my bed and stood there totally naked. I visualised Rosalie's mother deciding that I should also be punished along with her daughter. I imagined being spanked and tried to visualise the mixture of utter humiliation and pain I would no doubt feel. My body shivered and I was covered in goose bumps. I was more aroused than I had ever been. Still naked I jumped back into my bed, pulled up the blankets and thrust my hand down to my pussy. I was soaking wet. I only stroked my clitoris a couple of times before I could feel my orgasm ready to flood over me. I thrust my fingers deep into my vulva and was shocked at the ferocity of the orgasm. I had to bite down on my pillow to prevent myself from screaming out with pleasure.

Over the ensuing months I repeated this scenario many times. Always late at night when I was sure my parents and siblings were asleep. Always I would undress and imagine myself being punished. Sometimes it would be Rosalie's Mum, but other times I imagined it was one of my college lecturers giving me a damn good spanking for being disruptive in class. I visualised myself being spanked in front of a whole classroom of my peers. Always I ended up masturbating myself to an intense orgasm.

But as time went on I realised I wanted more. I needed more than just standing naked and visualising being spanked. The intensity was quickly beginning to wear off. The frustration got so bad that it began to affect me emotionally. I knew I was becoming bitchy and moody but I couldn't seem to help myself. It all came to a head one particular weekend when I was meant to go camping with my parents for a long weekend but because of my behaviour they grounded me for the weekend. My older brother and sister were already away staying with friends up the Coast, so that meant I would be home for 3 days on my own.

I pleaded with my parents to take me but they were firm in their decision. I almost wanted to plead with them to spank me instead of grounding me, but I knew they would be shocked beyond belief as they did not believe in corporal punishment.

Early on Saturday morning my parents departed, their SUV loaded with camping gear. I did have one last go at trying to persuade them to change their minds just before they left, however my mother insisted that I should spend the time at home reflecting on my poor behaviour. She asked me if I would do that for her and tearfully I responded I would. I was contrite. I knew I had been behaving poorly and had no one to blame other than myself.

I spent the rest of the morning tidying up my bedroom which had become a total disaster area. Usually I was a tidy teenager but in my current rebellious and moody state I had lost the desire to keep it clean. Once I had finished the bedroom I decided to have a shower and freshen up. Having finished the shower, I was standing in the bathroom towelling myself off. I remember thinking how quiet the house was. It was most unusual for me to be home alone on the weekend as there was generally always someone else around.

For some reason I found myself opening the bathroom door. I was still totally naked, but held my towel in front of myself covering my breasts and pussy. I peeked down the hall as I could not quite accept that I was alone. There was after all a remote chance either of my siblings could return home for some reason, or perhaps my parents returned having forgotten something.

I stood in the hallway and listened. There was only me at home. I returned to the bathroom, folded my towel on the rail, and then walked out totally naked into the hallway. I stood there in full view, even though there was no one else around to see me. I couldn't believe I was just standing there. I forced my hands to my side so that I was exposed. At that stage I had no idea what I was going to do, but I was flushed and knew I needed to do more.

I walked down the stairs and into my parents' bedroom. The curtain was open but a tall hedge shielded me from the view of neighbours. I stood in front of my parents' full-length mirror and stared at my nakedness. I saw the body of an eighteen year old girl who had yet to blossom into a woman. I saw my small boobs and was shocked to notice how erect my nipples seemed to be. I gazed down at my pussy. I had a small patch of blonde curly pubes that formed a delicate triangle pointing to my labia.

As I looked at my naked self I again began to think of Rosalie. I saw myself as the naughty daughter who needed to be punished. Right beside me was my parents' chest of drawers, and sitting on top was my mother's hairbrush. I reached out picked it up. It was a solid wooden one and I was surprised at how heavy it was. I slapped the palm of my hand with the brush and it stung.

Tentatively I reached behind myself and gave my right buttock a gentle smack. It didn't really hurt. I repeated it again with a little more force. It stung a little more that time. I then brought my arm right back behind me and swung it with all the force I could muster. It connected low down on my cheek with a loud crack. I yelped with surprise and the pain. It really hurt and I dropped the brush and rubbed my cheek with both hands. I turned around and looked at my bottom in the mirror. Surprisingly I could only see the faintest of red marks where it had connected. I expected to see more given the stinging pain when it connected.

I turned around again to face the mirror. I was confused. What on earth had possessed me to smack myself? Why had I wanted to do it? I looked down at my mother's hairbrush lying at my feet where I had dropped it. Then I looked up again at my own reflexion in the mirror. I stared hard into the reflexion of my own eyes for a long couple of minutes.

'You know why you did it',

I spoke softly to myself, but it was as if my own reflexion was speaking to me.

'

You know you have been a naughty little brat'

I pouted as my reflexion scolded me. '

You know you need a damn good spanking for the way you have been behaving like a spoilt brat towards your family'.

"I'm sorry", I responded to my own reprimanding with genuine remorse. "You are right. I wish my parents would just spank me like Rosalie's did."

"

Well you are not going to get off so lightly girl. If your parents are not going to spank you then you will just have to give yourself the spanking you deserve. Now pick up the hairbrush and go and bend your butt over your parents' bed."

With a sense of both excitement and dread I bent down and picked up the hairbrush. I stared awkwardly at my reflexion.

'

What are you waiting for girl?'

I guess what I was waiting for was to try and make some sense of what I was considering doing. Here I was, an 18 year old standing naked in my parents' bedroom, holding my mother's hairbrush and telling myself to bend over the bed and give myself a spanking that I knew full well was going to hurt. But deep down I sensed this was something I wanted to do. Why, I wasn't quite sure. I knew that ever since I had witnessed Rosalie having her naked bottom spanked by her mother that I had fantasized about it happening to me. I also knew that I had been frustrated and behaving poorly.

It was at that point that I knew I was going to do it. I was actually going to spank my own delicate little bottom. I began to walk slowly to the bed. I looked over and saw the door to my parents' bedroom was wide open.

'

Leave the door open!"

my own voice reprimanded me. '

Naughty little girls like you don't deserve your privacy. It will serve you right if someone from your family comes home and sees you giving yourself a damn good spanking.'

I shuddered and was genuinely nervous. I was not looking forward to the spanking. It would be humiliating and painful. But I would just die if anyone actually saw me in the process, even though I knew the chances of anyone coming home were remote. When I got to the bed I placed the hairbrush on the duvet and knelt down beside the bed. I leant my upper body on the bed and lay there for several minutes, pondering my fate. Was I really going to do this? I could feel my heart beating rapidly and I was flushed.

Tentatively I picked up the hairbrush and gripped it tightly. My palm was sweating.

'

Get that butt of yours higher up, girl

'

I slid forward more on the bed so my pelvis was flush with the edge. I hesitated.

'

What are you waiting for girl? You know you want this. You know you deserve this. Don't you?

'

"Yes!" I responded loudly to myself. "I do deserve this."

Without further hesitation I swung my right arm back and spanked my bottom with force.