. . . .
I've never fantasized about my mom spanking me, but I fantasized about my friend's mom spanking me. I had always had a crush on my friend's mom who was a beautiful blonde with brown eyes.
I was about nine years old, when I was at my friend's house for the afternoon. My friend's little brother was teasing and being a jerk, trying to get in the middle of our afternoon. Finally, my friend punched his little brother who went crying to their mom. A few minutes later, their mom entered the family room, held a brief courtroom to determine the facts, and then passed judgment. My friend, not his teasing brother, was found guilty of not acting with more maturity because he was three years older and violating the family rule of no hitting, punching, or biting a sibling.
The penalty was set and carried out post haste. My friend was frogmarched out of the family room and down to the master bedroom with his cries of innocence ringing in the hallway. Two minutes later, the smacking sounds of a spanking on the bare bottom were ringing in hallway where I was standing so I could hear the proceedings. Immediately, my friend's cries accompanied the smacking sounds.
As his pleas for clemency fell on deaf ears and the smacking and crying sounds filled my ears, a warmth filled my loins and bottom as I pictured being placed across her beautiful lap. I could feel her pulling down my pants and then my underwear. I could feel the cool breeze on my bare bottom. I could feel my heart beating faster with the anticipation of the first smack and the pain. I didn't care about the pain because it was her beautiful hand that was administering the pain.
It was a vivid fantasy, especially for an nine-year-old boy.
. . . .