X Rated Reads Free Stories

“Am I really going to go through with this?” I wondered for the hundredth time as I pulled my key from the ignition, and my car burbled into silence. I sat and stared, nerves bundling in my stomach. There was Miss Monica’s home, her walkway cutting neatly across the pretty grass, and her front door, gleaming in the sun. I couldn’t stop looking, knowing she would be on the other side of that door. She was waiting for me, as we had agreed, to discuss both the details and consequences of my naughty behavior.

Of course, I could just start my car and speed away, pushing all of my boyish silliness aside, and never speak to her again. Easy. I could. But, I knew full well that I would not be doing so. Instead, I would step from my car and lock it, and meekly pad my way to meet with Miss Monica, just as instructed.

Reluctantly, timidly, I knocked, and in a moment I heard the locking bolt slide back to its recessed position. Then, with regal, radiating confidence, Miss Monica greeted me.

“Well, well, Roger. Please come in and seat yourself there.” She gestured toward my intended seat. “Right on the naughty stool and face me.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said, followed by a tongue-stumbling, “Thank you, Ma’am.” But I did not sit. I stood and gaped.

She smiled a little, and handed me a refreshing glass of water. Amid my nervous anticipation, I hadn’t taken a moment to consider how thirsty I really was, and I slurped down the water in an undignified show of poor manners.

Miss Monica watched. “My, my, Roger,” she said once I had finished. “You have been so polite to me on the phone, but now in person, it seems that you have the manners of a greedy, little piggy. You may seat yourself, now, on the naughty stool and apologize.”

“Yes, Ma’am. I’m sorry, Ma’am,” I sank down, already surrendering in reaction to her scolding.

Once seated on the naughty stool, head bowed in deference to her authority, my gaze became riveted to the sensuous sweep of her slender, shapely legs, encased in shimmering, glamorous nylon. Her skirt was short – very short – and the view of her was magnetic. Her lovely feet were graced with a shiny pair of thin-strapped high heels, and her pretty painted toes peeked out ever so sweetly from the contoured opening of her shoe tips.

Within a moment, Miss Monica countered my gawking by placing her perfectly manicured index finger beneath my chin and lifting my face to hers. With a gentle firmness, she slapped my face several times. Not hard, not gentle, but with measured firmness.

“Would you agree that you are acting like a very naughty boy?" she asked.

My cheeks flushed and tingled from the slaps and I felt ashamed of myself. “Yes, Ma’am,” I mumbled.

“Now, Roger,” continued Miss Monica, “there are certain rules of decorum that you will follow to the letter whenever you are in my presence. One of these rules is no gawking, unless of course, I tell you that you may.”

Once more, “Yes, Ma’am” escaped from my lips as my face flushed even further with embarrassment.

“Do you understand, my naughty little Roger?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“As we both know,” Miss Monica continued, her voice resolute, “the purpose of our visit today, Roger, is to continue our phone discussion of your willful and persistent naughtiness. You will, of course, share with me in all its lurid detail. Then, when I am satisfied that you have shared with me a complete confession of your naughtiness, I will decide upon a punishment that will appropriately address the selfish nature of your misbehavior. Now, Roger, please begin.”

“Well, um, Miss Monica,” I ventured, “it seems that I have lately chosen to lurk near the bottom of escalators at shopping malls in hopes of enjoying glimpses underneath ladies’ skirts. And even though I know my habit is both ill-advised and disrespectful, I find myself doing it anyway.”

“I see, Roger.” Miss Monica nodded. “Please continue.”

Reaching for some justification for my actions, I added, “The thought that, after so many glimpses, I might eventually be rewarded by seeing all the way up a lady’s pretty legs to her panties, seems to leave me powerless to curb what I know is a very naughty habit.”

“Yes, it is a naughty habit,” Miss Monica countered. “A very, very naughty habit, Roger. And, what else should I know? I believe there is more you need to tell me, now isn’t there, Roger?”

“Yes, Ma’am, there is.” I replied, reluctant to divulge everything, but my punishment was now inevitable no matter what I said. But how would I be punished, and for how long? I had no way of knowing, but I did know that I dared not make the further mistake of withholding any details regarding my actions. I spilled it all. “Miss Monica, when I feel that someone may notice my intentions, I return home to recall over and over what I have seen, while I take my pants down and masturbate.”

“Oh my, Roger! Naughty only begins to unmask who you truly are and the ungentlemanly nature of your egregious misbehavior. However,” Miss Monica paused and tapped her finger alongside my face. “I am happy that you are making your full confession to me and that you admit to being a weak-minded masturbator – a very naughty, weak-minded masturbator, and that, my dear little Roger, is how I will regard you from now on. Of course, I suspected as much all along.”

Another, “Yes, Ma’am” sealed my submission to her. I would always be nothing more than a naughty little masturbator to Miss Monica, and for that matter, to any of her lady friends with whom she might choose to share my humiliating, little secret.

“Now, Roger,” Miss Monica continued, “you know you must be punished, don’t you?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I murmured in agreement.

“But, before we begin your so very much needed punishment, and oh my, do you ever need it, I want you to complete your confession by revealing to me two more telling little secrets about you.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” I capitulated. After all, a true confession is designed to reveal all of the incriminating, humiliating, and sorry little details that simply must be exposed, exhibited, and examined.

“I will ask in a very direct manner, Roger, and I want the truth from you. A simple yes or no will do. Are you ready, Roger?

I answered, of course, with a timorous “Yes, Ma’am.”

“First, Roger,” Miss Monica began, “with your proclivity for peeking up skirts at ladies’ panties, are you a panty boy?

“Yes Ma’am, Miss Monica,” I said sincerely.

“Secondly, do you harbor thoughts of peeping up my skirt, Roger, to gawk at my panties?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” I was helpless to give any other answer.

“Well now, Roger,” beamed Miss Monica with a transcendent smile, “I believe that, for today, your confession is complete. Now, Roger, you should know that I am pleased with what you have told me. You have been very honest and obedient. But believe me, I already knew the truth about you – the inescapable truth that you are a very naughty panty boy, and a very naughty panty boy who needs to be spanked and spanked well. You do agree with me, don’t you, Roger?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I gasped.

“I am going to punish you with a bare-bottom spanking over my knee,” declared Miss Monica. “I will spank you thoroughly and repeatedly until your naughty, little-boy fanny is bright red and stinging. Following your spanking, there will also be bare-bottom corner time so that I may see your bottom while you think about how your life as a naughty masturbator has come to such a remarkably embarrassing result. Will a lady friend drop in to witness your emasculating predicament, Roger? Little masturbators, like you, can only wait and see. Now, do you believe that you deserve what is about to happen, masturbator Roger?”

Disagreement was not an option. I made puppy dog eyes hoping for leniency, but Miss Monica was in full control. My only real choice was total and complete submission to her decision – her decision to spank me, with my pants down, for being the naughty, little masturbater I had chosen to be. And, so I uttered to her a compliant and final, “Yes, Ma’am.”

“You may rise, Roger, and immediately pull down your pants,” directed Miss Monica. ” And that means underpants, as well.”

Shaking, I did exactly as instructed.

. “Now, my little masturbator, Roger, you may bend your so very naughty fanny right over my knee!”

As I did so, and my turgid little wiener slipped between her closing thighs, I saw that Miss Monica had placed a surprise for me on the floor, right under my red, embarrassed face. A pair of her panties was there for me to see, and think about, while Miss Monica spanked me.

“I’m sure you have noticed my panties, Roger. Are my panties what you wanted to see, Roger? Are my panties what you want to stare at, to ogle, and to gawk at, Roger? Tell me that they are, Roger, and tell me that you want to be spanked, that you want me to spank you for being the naughty, little masturbator you are!”

I could hold my emotions back no longer. I knew I deserved what was about to happen. I knew that my spanking was as necessary as air and that my choices in life had brought me to this moment. “Yes, Ma’am, yes,” I pleaded, “I want you to spank me, Miss Monica. I want you to spank my fanny for being the naughty, little masturbating panty boy I am. I deserve to be spanked! I am naughty, and I deserve to be spanked! Please, Miss Monica, spank me. Spank me! Please, spank me now!!!”

SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK!

My wholly deserved spanking began.

SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK!

Miss Monica’s commanding hand smacked and smacked my bare-naked and defenseless bottom cheeks with a solid, confident rhythm that would not relent for a long time to come.

SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK!

“Are you looking at my panties, naughty Roger? You had better be looking at my panties, Roger, and think about what happens when you violate a lady’s privacy. This is what will happen to your fanny, Roger, if you ever disrespect women in the manner you have confessed. When you look at panties, Roger, you get to be spanked. Do you understand me, naughty Roger?!!”

SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK. SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK!!

“Yes, Ma’am, Miss Monica! Yes, Ma’am! I get to be spanked! I get to be spanked! When I look at ladies’ panties, I get to be spanked! Ah, ahhhhhh!”

SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK!!!

“This spanking is such a perfect match for your naughty, selfish behavior, Roger, and the panties you see are a perfect match for your improper panty-gawking habits as well! I so enjoy punishing you, Roger. How nice it will be, too, to see you standing so contrite and bare-bottomed in the corner! Oh, and I will be taking your picture, Roger, just in case I think someone else needs to see you as you truly are – a masturbating panty boy who just got a nice, hard spanking! Ha-ha-ha! I love it!” Don’t you love it, too, Roger?”

SPANK, SPANK!

“Yes, Ma’am. Ow, ow! I mean, no, Ma’am. Owwwww! I mean yes, Ma’am! Yes, Ma’am. Yes, Ma’am! Ow! Ow! Owwwww!” My head spun. My legs kicked. My head bobbed up and down. My hard, little penis rubbed furiously between Miss Monica’s thighs.

I was being spanked, and spanked good – spanked and controlled by a lady who had every right to spank me. Then, suddenly, I felt my body become limp over her knee. Something inside my heart told me that what I truly owed Miss Monica was my total obedience to her and acceptance that she was going to spank me on her terms to the finish. There would be no further wiggling, squirming, or penis rubbing. There would only be passive subservience to her spanking hand, as she spanked my bare bottom again, and again, and again, and again. How truly deserving these moments were – so completely spanked, bare-bottom naked, into total submission!

Finally, after long last, the spanking stopped. At Miss Monica’s word, I shuffled my bare bottom, pants still down, to the corner where I stood in silence. My bare, spanked bottom was on display, and I heard a camera shutter click several times, which was a most embarrassing reminder that others would see my red fanny, right after it has been freshly spanked.

After a time, Miss Monica said that I could now come out of the corner and pull up my pants. To my surprise, she hugged me and gave me a sweet little kiss on my cheek. The same cheek she had slapped before.

“May I say, Roger, you have taken your spanking so very well.” She gave me a warm smile. “When I spank naughty boys, I want those boys to accept their spankings, just like you! And, as a reward, Roger, I am giving you the panties you stared at while I spanked you. I’m sure they will serve as a reminder of what happens to naughty boys who make naughty choices, especially when those choices violate the respect that is essential for men to have for women. Now, do you have you anything to say to me, Roger?”

“Yes, Ma’am. Thank you Ma’am,” I replied. “Thank you for spanking me like I so truly deserved. I feel so much better now that I really did pay the price for my naughtiness. I feel that I am right, again, with a fresh, new respect for femininity, and my humble place in the world. And, I owe it all to you, Miss Monica, for caring enough to spank me, just like I needed.”

“Oh, Roger, I am only too happy to help you and spank you!” Miss Monica exclaimed with glee. “I know you will need to see me in the future so you can be spanked again! Now, it’s time for you to go, Roger. But, before you do, I want you to kiss my spanking hand, and do me another little favor as well. Here is a bag of my trash. Please be a dear, and take it with you so you can throw it away for me. Thanks! Bye-bye, Roger.”

Happy and humiliated, I smiled. “Good-bye, Miss Monica, and yes Ma’am!”