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 Under Her Belt Chapter 2: The Belt Comes Off

   The next week a couple of teachers had made a mistake and another kid
and I got in trouble at school.  Where we live corporal punishment is still
practiced in school.  This was just grab your ankles with your pants on.  A
male teacher, a fairly muscular one, delivered the spanking with a bigger,
thicker paddle than my mom used.  It was only 4 whacks.  I was about to ask
him to quit teasing, to just do it and end the suspense of how much it was
going to hurt, and he was done.  What I thought was him just teasing me
with light taps was the paddling.  Then he paddled the other boy just the
same way he had paddled me.  The other boy ended up with tears in his eyes,
fighting to hold in the crying.  I was just used to longer, harder
paddlings.

   I didn't tell my mom that day that I had been spanked in school.  I
waited a few days, until a day that I wanted something different to break
things up.  I told her not only that it had happened, but also that I had
been keeping it from her and was starting to feel bad about it.  I was
trying to think of things to get me more swats.  What I settled on was
telling her the reason for the paddling was because I disrupted class by
saying profanities.  This was a lie.  It was the teacher's mistake.  I
don't remember what he thought I had done, but I didn't do it.  I told my
mom differently to get a longer spanking.

   It turns out that the other kid blamed me for what had happened.  He
wasn't very bright.  He didn't even know not to tell his parents about it
if he didn't want it again.  He asked me if I had got another spanking when
I got home.  I hadn't gotten it yet, but I was going to.  I didn't tell him
that, I just said no.  This pissed him off even more.  He may have been an
idiot, but he did have a good idea to get revenge.

   He lied to my mom and told her he had seen me playing with matches.  He
also intentionally got me in trouble at school a couple of times.  But the
matches thing, that was a good idea.  He wanted to hurt me, and it worked
in the short term.  This would have been a great revenge on virtually any
other kid.

   First a little background.  My mom had been spanking me for as long as I
could remember.  It was always with the paddle or hairbrush.  Never did we
have to go to a special room or anything.  At home she would have me bring
the paddle to whatever room she was in.  Out somewhere else, she would pull
the hairbrush out of her purse and I had to go over her knee right there on
the spot.  While I had heard mention of belts and canes from other people,
the thought of my being spanked with anything else had simply never
occurred to me.  A spanking was a paddling or a hairbrushing.  I had never
in my life heard her call match sticks "matches." The whole big one time I
remember her saying something about one she said "match stick," making a
point of making it clear "match stick" was two words.  She called other
things "matches." Matches were just things that matched.  Matching clothes,
matching furniture, matching colors.  Even people could be matches.

   I didn't know anything about the lie she had been told.  When my brother
told me mom wanted to see me in the bathroom, I thought he was making some
sort of joke.  He wouldn't let it go.  I finally peeked into the bathroom,
and she was sitting on the toilet.  She told me to come on in and stand in
front of her.  She was sitting on the toilet with her pants on, but had her
belt in her hand.  Could this scenario BE more confusing?  Turns out yes.
She asked, "Where did you get the matches?" I was waiting for her to finish
the question, give me the vaguest clue what kind of "matches" she was
talking about.  In a scolding one, she said, "Answer me, young man." There
was some sort of movement of her hand as she said this.  In retrospect, she
was probably trying to show me she was holding the belt.

   I said, "What matches?" And was answered with a hit to the face.  Not
with the belt.  She just smacked my face with her hand.  Then she smacked
me again.  At least 6 times she smacked my face hard.  This was new,
different.  Kind of exciting.  Very disorienting.  I wasn't consciously
aware of what mom did next until she was almost finished doing it.  She
opened my pants, and yanked them and my underwear down to my ankles.  Then
she put the belt in the sink and turned the sink on to get the belt good
and wet.  She pushed me over her knee, pinned my legs in place with her
other leg, and pinned both of my hands behind my back with one hand.  Then
my mom took the wet belt out of the sink proceeded to spank me with it.

   I still didn't understand what was going on, but one thing was crystal
clear.  Mom was spanking my bare butt with a wet belt, which hurt a hell of
a lot more than a paddling on underwear.  She still spanked as hard as she
could in a slow steady rhythm.  What was different was the implement.  It
took six swats of the paddle to get me to cry a little.  Just three licks
of the belt, and I was crying hard.  I came out of the daze I was in and
started trying to get up.  Then I remembered she had me securely pinned in
place.  Mom held me down and whipped me with the belt for a long time.

   The most I had ever gotten with the paddle in one day was 50 swats.  I
had done quite a few things wrong in a short period, and then hesitated
when mom said to bring her the paddle.  At least then I knew why I was
getting so many swats.  This day I had no idea why she would treat me this
way.  After the fact, my brother would tell me he had counted 65 licks of
the belt.

   Minutes later, I was laying (face down of course) on my bed, howling.  I
began to realize I was not only in more pain that I would be from the
paddle, I was also more turned on.  I rolled over onto my side and started
playing with my dick.  I jacked off thinking about mom whipping me with the
belt.  O got off 3 times to that image that evening.  For many years to
come that was my goto image when I played with myself.  I got a bit
obsessed with it.  I wanted to see if I could get her to do it again.

   It turns out it was pretty easy to get her to do it again.  It became
her new implement of choice as well as mine.  I got spanked with a belt by
my mom all through my teen years, and still do to this day.  But today it's
not for the same reason(s).  In the years since I turned 18, it's been just
for fun.  More about that later.  For now we skip ahead less than a year.

   It was about a month or so after my 10th birthday when the unthinkable
happened.  Unthinkable at the time, but the results are amazing.  I started
to get a hardon when my mom was spanking me.  I was mortified!  What must
she think?  What is she going to do now?

   Mom didn't even seem to be phased by my hardon.  She said, "Michael,
that is just nasty!  You are a dirty boy!" She said this as she continued
spanking me just as hard in the same slow, deliberate rhythm.  You might
say she didn't miss a beat.  She didn't pause until she had delivered what
I had expected to be the last lick, the end of my punishment.  she paused
long enough to say, "and since you're such a dirty boy . . .  " then
proceeded to count out 20 more licks of the belt.  I loved every second of
it!  It was such a turn on!

   The spankings took on a new pattern.  Mom sits in a straight back chair
in my bedroom, where the belt hangs on the wall.  An old belt of my dad's,
thicker than the ones she wears.  I take it down from the wall and hand it
to her.  Mom sits legs crossed, holding the belt and lectures me about why
I'm about to be spanked.  She always puts her left knee on top, and when I
bend over I'm on top of her left knee, causing my backside to be more
elevated and pulled tight.  But first I have to take off all my clothes. 
Mom spanks me as hard as she could, in a slow, steady rhythm, making every
lick count.  Some multiple of my age.

   She went from usually wearing pants, only wearing a dress or skirt on
occasion, to always wearing a dress or skirt.  Sometimes it's short enough
that her knee and thigh are already bare, just from the shortness of the
skirt and sitting in that position.  When it isn't, she hikes her skirt up
so that I'm bending over her bare knee.  My hard dick shifts and moves,
pressed against her bare thigh.  I get a hardon while mom spanks me, which
earns me a little extra scolding and more licks.

   After the spanking, I jack off thinking about my mom's sexy legs and her
whipping me.  I always cum at least twice.  Is it any wonder I'm such a
naughty boy?  I do what it takes to go over my mom's knee as often as I
can.