Allison A Spanking Story Pt 05

This story takes place in the Perfect Beginning Universe. It makes brief mention of Michele's work.

For me, first time is always the most exciting. Compounding the excitement is the anxiety when at least one character realizes that they are not the person they thought they were.

This story takes place in a very male dominant society, one which is even more patriarchal than our own. Pete comes to realize that as he falls under Allison's spell, he does not measure up to societal expectations. These two young people are discovering and becoming as they grow together as a couple.

Psychological conflict and tension are central themes in this story.

*

The following is an outline of how this society operates. The Perfect Beginning provides a slightly more comprehensive description of the universe.

* People are legal adults at 18 years of age.

* People usually live to about 2,000 years of age.

* The cultural norm has almost all legal adults living with their family of origin until they turn 200 years old.

* Young people between the ages of 18 and 200 are treated as and referred to as children when they choose to continue living with their parents.

* Young people between the ages of 18 and 200 often behave much as we would expect teenagers to behave here in our world. They are kept in a state of arrested emotional development.

* Young people between the ages of 18 and 200 years customarily consume "blockers" which prevent them from having sexual feelings or impulses.

* Some young people will begin to "date" around 160 yers of age and while they are expected to continue to take their blockers, some will surreptitiously stop taking them while a few will stop responding to them.

* Age and masculinity are revered in this world. Everybody looks up to their elders and few seriously question the patriarchy.

All characters in the story are over 18 years of age.

It is customary for those below the age of 200 to demonstrate their status by wearing clothing which signify to others that they are off limits. They would wear what we would think of as children's clothing. Remember, an 18 year old and a 1,900 year old would look exactly the same age, so children's clothes are very useful for signaling to those over 200 years to abstain from any romantic or sexual pursuit of another who was deemed of an inappropriate age.

Lastly, sex is not technically illegal for people between the ages of 18 and 200 years. It is considered profoundly taboo. Adult-children (18+) do have sex but it is kept very quiet. Some parents punish their children for engaging in this sinful pleasure and adult-children almost never tell-on one another in this regard, even those who might not like one another. Adult children live by a code and violation of said code subjects one to complete ostracization. Almost none experiment until they are well over 160 years old.

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"It has been said time and again, we are responsible for our own happiness and nothing is stopping us from attaining it. Look at us." Carol's lips creased into a smile and the pleasure she took from the world was self evident. Just then, Allison viewed her mother as a cat who sat contentedly licking the blood off her claws.

Allison viewed her mother as a sexual goddess and carried nothing for her but respect, admiration and love. Her mother was the perfect role model.

"Would it not be better though, Mother, if there was a bit more equality. I mean, men run everything and I'm not sure we women could not do it better."

"You might be right but as I look out, things don't look quite so bad. War seems to be a thing of the past, reasonable measures to maintain population are in place, the environment is balanced enough, according to the scientists, and most people have enough to get by. As I see it, most of the trains are running on time.

"My focus is on my world and I am most pleased with what I have."

Allison agreed with Mother as usual. "Yet it is the principal, Mother. Men are so..."

"Darling, I take your point, I do. Nonetheless, it serves us. It does," she said with a warm smile. I'd like you to consider how you made your brother cry this very morning."

This was an unexpected turn in the conversation that caught Allison off guard. Her cheeks rose to red and the smile blossomed on her lovely face. She did not expect this to become a "naughty" conversation, one that might cause her arousal.

"You made your brother cry over some little thing. You made your considerably older brother cry like your little boy. How did that make you feel?"

Making her brother cry did to Allison exactly what it did to Carol any time either made the boy cry which seemed to happen at least weekly if not more often. She felt titillated and fully aroused, self satisfied and spiritually uplifted. She felt all these things on a profound level. Thinking on it, she bit her lower lip in the most adorable way while failing to hide her smile. Unleashing her smile, "I appreciated it, Mother."

"Certainly you did. As well you should. It's beautiful and I appreciate it just as you do. Aside from the spanking...and in part because of it, why do you think your brother is such a prolific, little cry baby?"

Beaming at her mother, "Shame."

"Precisely." Carol matched her daughter's smile. "Shame is such an important element in this new, beautiful way of life. And your brother would not feel this way if the world were otherwise.

"Consider your cousin Mary. She loves her place beneath her husband Mark. She proudly submits to his leadership. Do you remember how at the last April 21st celebration she was telling us all the story of how Mark had," with this, she flashed air quotes, "to give her a spanking for some little thing. We all smiled and she was certainly having her fun entertaining us all, but she was not ashamed in the least.

"The world more or less expects this of her. Societal expectations of your brother are just a little different, wouldn't you agree?"

"Of course," replied Allison.

"That shame he experiences... Check that, that shame he lives with at all times is only possible because of his failure," more air quotes," to live up to what he thinks he needs to be, based upon societal norms. Thank goodness for those blessed norms!"

Mother and daughter shared a warm smile.

"That shame he feels makes your brother more... let's say: cooperative." Carol punctuated her understatement with another broad smile.

"And it really is beautiful," added Allison.

"And it really is beautiful," agreed Carol. "I can honestly say that few things in life are more delightful than making a man or a boy cry." For a moment, she looked far away.

How many times have I cum from making that lovely boy of mine cry? Satisfying.

These were warm memories.

"The shame is used to keep him in his place. It's the yoke on his soul. Wonderfully useful and ultimately very beneficial for him. Few things make me feel more connected to him nor more of a loving mother than when I am nurturing him with shame. It's good for him, Allison."

"And I have to agree, Mother, it likely would not feel so wonderful if it were not the very rightest thing to do." Allison too had cum many times while enjoying the tears all over Elliot's lovely face; tears she inspired. "His shame and making him cry is something I love with all my heart. The joy I take from putting him in such an emotional state makes me prettier and I am convinced that it maintains my little girl spirit."

While Allison was in manner as mature and cultivated as any adult woman, within her was the spirit of a girl. She just adored feeling herself as a girl, looking out at the world as a girl and perhaps more than anything, being seen as a girl. In this way, she continued to feel a sense of wonder in life. There was too, great vitality in feeling herself as a girl.

"That and spanking him might be my very favorite things in life."

"Not to mention when he kisses your pretty little-girl crotch."

"Mother!" said in playful shock. "You can be so impolite."

They smiled at one another with all the joy in the world.

*

Carol carefully crafted Elliot's sexual identity through manipulation, eroticized humiliation, classic psychological conditioning and down and dirty gaslighting.

"Elliot, we will try this one more time, but I'm afraid that if you respond as you did the other day, we will have to have a very uncomfortable conversation."

Elliot was horrified. Since the day previous, when he'd endured the most humiliating encounter of his life, something so beyond his imagining, he'd remained quietly in isolation ruminating about everything that had happened. He even considered suicide, so traumatized was he.

Sometime at night, his mother came to him as he lay in bed. She sat down next to him and assured him it would be okay and that they'd get through this together. She brushed his forhead with her hand and soothed him. They locked eyes and she gave him her very familiar closed mouth smile.

So pretty.

He could smell her and it comforted him.

Mommy.

Quickly he admonished himself for thinking of her as Mommy. He told himself it was just a slip.

It was so comforting to have his mother repeatedly brushing his face while using her calming voice to talk him down from his hysteria.

Mother is so pretty.

She brushed, over the cover of his blanket, his shoulder and arm resting her hand innocently on his bottom.

"Hush now, little boy. You are going to be alright. It's going to be okay. Tomorrow after Allison goes to school, we will have a talk about it and find a way forward. Okay, little man?" With this, she patted his bottom reassuringly.

She was a life perserver in the most literal sense. He believed her.

"Yes, Mother."

He'd almost called her Mommy and was so grateful he'd caught himself. He hated calling her Mother as it seemed so formal and deferential. Allison called her that but he did not have the stomach for it. Just then, however, Mother felt appropriate.

Mother leaned down and hugged him and he was saved.

"Good boy."

"Good boy" should have bothered him but it didn't. Actually it felt good.

*

The blockers were not completely out of his system because not until Mother left him alone did he realized he was hard again. The poor boy did not even know how to masturbate or what it was, so he tossed and turned through the night.

*

"So we will try this again, young man and go from there.

"Come to Mommy, let's get those pants off you."

This was the talk she'd mentioned the night before. This was going to be what got him through this. He was severely messed up and Mother was going to find a way around all this.

He was laser beam focused on her. "Yes, Mother."

Elliot felt his stomach sink as he made his way to her. All night long, all he could do was think about how pretty Mommy was. The poor boy's cock was rock hard the entire time and was not even certain he got any sleep.

She's going to see and think it's because of her. It's not!

It was.

He'd convinced himself he was hard for some reason that had nothing to do with his mother even though he spent the whole night obsessing over her. He thought of all those terrible things she made him say. The most horrid part of it was that there was at least a little truth in it all.

Not really. I'm not a little boy!

The previous day, while he stared at his mother, while she held his cock so firmly in her fist, did not at least a little part of him want to be her good boy? The answer to this scared him. And didn't he want to do what she said? He did not want to think of it as "obeying" mother but it was hard to get around.

And then there was the spanking. He recalled how just before being bent over Mommy's knee, he felt himself almost paralyzed.

He remembered all the previous spankings he'd earned himself as a younger boy. As a boy, he had no choice. He remembered all the times he'd been over Mother's knee as she spanked him. It hurt terribly and he was seized by the memory of being completely out of control of his own body. It needed to stop but it didn't and there was not a single thing he could do about it. As Mommy spanked, he was helpless and this sense of helplessness, complete powerlessness was all because of Mommy.

He remembered all of it at once because it was the same every time. Even in the years he was bigger than Mother, she was not to be disobeyed. She took down his pants and he was compelled to stand passively for this humiliation. She guided him over her knee and again, he was passive in his acceptance. She would speak to him then about how naughty he'd been and the humiliation was everything. He was consumed by the humiliation of all of it until the spanking began.

As she began spanking him there was nothing else in the world but the fire she was creating on his naughty bottom. Nothing else. Only the pain he somehow had to get away from. He could not endure one more single spank and it had to stop right now! Yet the spanking continued. He could endure no more. Yet Mother kept spanking. It was horrible. He was powerless to Mommy.

Yet was there not some good in this? Mother always said it was for his own good and she certainly meant it. And afterward, she always hugged him and soothed him. He remembered never feeling more loved than in those blessed moments. In those moments, as she hugged him, as Mother pressed his face between her breasts and he was possessed by her scent, it made the spanking worth it.

It was odd to him because when on the front side of a spanking, he'd NEVER make the trade. A spanking followed by a hug was the exchange he would not hesitate to dismiss if given a choice. Yet afterward, as Mother held him, he'd look back on that spanking and think: yes, it was for my own good. He thought he'd accept that spanking every day for the feeling Mother gave him just then as she hugged him. In this he felt loved. And he loved his mother.

And he believed it was for his own good. Eventually, Mother stopped spanking him so he reasoned he was better behaved and simply no longer earned spankings.

Because she taught me.

The day before, as he was bending over her knee, he remembered all of this and was once again overwhelmed by Mother.

As he lay in bed last night he tried desperately not to think about the spanking Mother gave him. It was not the same kind of spanking as it was play but it conjured all the same feelings he experienced as a boy. The other big difference was that he, for the first time realized...

...how pretty Mommy was while she did it to me.

He was drawn to her and the pull was inescapable. He knew there was something wrong with him as he should not feel that way about his mother, but it was undeniably there.

She's so pretty and the spanking was so fun.

By fun he meant sexually stimulating which was a brand new feeling for Elliot.

He reasoned it was a weird, one time thing.

It'll pass.

Yet here they were going through it all again and he was erect before it even started.

She's going to think it is because of her but it's not.

It most certainly was.

Carol's long, elegant fingers played slowly over his bulge as she took her sweet time undoing his button fly. She looked up at him with an encouraging smile.

So pretty.

Her beauty comforted him.

She's going to see!

His exposure traumatized him.

Slowly lowering his pants, "Oh, Ellie," said in defeat. She removed his boxers and beheld a beautiful penis. Perhaps in all her lifted, she'd never seen a harder cock as her son's in this moment.

Lovely.

Everything it represented encouraged her and reassured her that what she was doing with Elliot would work out to her liking.

Lovely!

"How terribly disappointing, Elliot. I hoped that maybe..."

"I'm sorry, Mommy."

His words were beautiful to her. Yesterday was such a big moment, she was not sure if he'd said it then but in this case, his words were indelible. She adored that he was apologizing for his erection.

As he should. We will have many more apologies, little Ellie.

All her adult life, men thought they were God's gift and much of it was associated with their cocks. A cock she knew he believed made young women fall all over themselves for him. Elliot was apologizing for his. She was tickled.

"We have one final test but I have to say I have strong suspicions about how this is going to go. Come with me."

She clasped his wrist and guided him to her room. Her bed was unmade but she noted that if things went to plan, she'd never need to make a bed again.

"Get in Mommy's bed, Elliot."

He complied.

Mommy's bed felt so good and he was dizzy with her smell.

Carol got on the bed with him, sitting cross-legged as Elliot lay on his back.

"Now, Ellie, I want you to look at me the whole time. I want you to stare at Mommy and not look anywhere else, do you understand?"

"Yes, Mommy." So transfixed was he, he did not even know what she said or how he responded. All he knew was that his mother was captivating.

"Mommy's going to handle you now much as I did yesterday." Carol did not wait for a response, when she reached out with one hand and grasped her son's cock right at the base.

So wonderfully hard! My, my. Good boy.

She was tempted to gently stroke Elliot but she did not want to teach him how to self stimulate. She simply gripped him firmly, possessively.

"Just look at Mommy."

He could not look away from his mother.

"Now, repeat after me: I want to obey Mommy. Just keep saying it."

He could hear himself from some great distance repeating Mother's command. He did it over and over again.

She allowed him to meditate on these words for about five minutes. It turned out this was soothing to both of them. Mother was just as aroused as little Ellie but if Carol was one thing, it was patient.

And he did want to obey Mommy.

"Now, Ellie we are going to change to: When I'm naughty, I need Mommy to spank my bottom and make me a good boy."

He must have said it for at least another five minutes all the while feeling the blessed squeeze to his rock hard cock and admiring how pretty Mommy was.

And he remembered again that when she spanked him, it really was for his own good. He knew in his heart that Mommy's spankings were loving guidance.

"Okay, Ellie, now for the last thing. I want you to repeat what I say, but I need you to remain still, do you understand?"

Elliot felt a pulse of trepidation with this but he felt absolutely powerless to his mother as she held him by his cock. It was quite literally his joy-stick and she controlled him completely.

"Yes, Mommy."

"Repeat: I must always please Mommy."

"I must always please Mommy..."

After about a dozen times, she held some sort of fabric over his face. Intuitively, he jerked his head to the side attempting to avoid what she was doing. It smelled strongly and it was repulsive to him. Carol simply followed his movement with her hand holding it over his mouth and nose.

He brought his hand up to pull hers away but caught himself. He'd get a spanking. He'd get a hard spanking if he interfered.

She held it there until he stopped holding his breath and took many deep breaths.

Carol removed the worn panties from his face and took in his fear. "You must repeat what I've said, Ellie." Carol was being strategic in this scent conditioning. She did not want Elliot to get used to the smell or it might not be quite so effective.

He went back to repeating the mantra, "I must always please Mommy."

After several seconds she held the waded up panties over his mouth and nose once more.

Again, it was offensive. It smelled of sweat and pee and he was not sure what else was in the mix. He struggled mightily with it but tried desperately to relax despite its repellent smell.