When I was a young boy, like all children I quickly discovered my own will, and of course tried my best to get everything in life the way I wanted it.
I vaguely remember a short time of rebellion without limits – but of course my mother and father quickly recognised their own responsibility to shape my character. Being the time period it was, that shaping mainly consisted of spankings applied to my bare bottom.
My parents spanked me soundly, and my struggle to get my own way was a hard but relatively short one. During these spankings, I often felt that it would be better to me to die than to submit in my rebellion.
But as every parent knows, a properly-spanked child’s bottom hurts too much to hold out, especially when you’re so exhausted from crying, as well as the sore backside created by a parent’s strong hand.
There comes a time during each spanking when the child experiences a distinct moment of both brokenness and relief. You realise that submitting to your parents’ authority is indeed the lesser of two evils.
Opponents of spanking often refer to the practice as ‘humiliating’ – but then, isn’t that exactly the point of disciplining a wayward child who needs to be taken down a peg or two? To humiliate, after all, means ‘to make humble’.
So yes, those spankings humbled me, and even the baring of my young bottom was an embarrassing but necessary aspect of the chastisement – it left no doubt how committed my parents were to sufficiently disciplining me, while putting me across the parental knee emphasised just how helpless I was in this moments, and that it was a battle I could never win. That was the point – mother and father were in charge of my behaviour, and I had to comply – no other option.
The result of these early sore bottoms was that by the time I started school at the age of six, I was already quite a good and disciplined boy, full of respect for authority. Of course, that wasn’t the end of spankings at home by any means!
More to the point, the spankings I got changed my life forever. Sometimes I still dream about them. In that moment of deep sleep, it still feels as if I’m trying to rebel, although against what and who I don’t know exactly. But at the same moment, I can feel myself breaking down, helpless, a frog in the throat and utterly broken.
The battle of wills between myself and my parents is an experience I will never forget – the pain and the changing of my mind are always present in my head. And of course I have sexualised them, using the memories frequently when I wank.
As I masturbate, I relive those feelings of submission and obedience, as well as those of a glowing and swollen bottom. The moment of orgasm is electric. So, in many ways, I remain mother and father’s good boy forever, and I’m so grateful to my parents for accomplishing God’s will, with the help of a hard hand and bared bottom.
Contributor: Jens