An Adult Sonbycornerboi©
I have been working out of town. It was lucky for me the jobsite was close to my mother house and she has allowed me stay there.
Today I came home from work to find the house empty. I don't know where my mother has gone, but I hope whatever she is doing it will leave me adequate time to play with myself undisturbed.
I go upstairs to my room, turn on the computer, and pull off my shoes, socks and work pants. I drag out the toy bag I have hidden in the closet and after rummaging around I grab my butt plug, the lube, and proceed to the bathroom down the hall. Once there, I lube up the plug, pull down my briefs and work it slowly into my ass, making sure it is fully inserted. I pull up my shorts, return to my room, and close the door. When I sit down at the computer, I feel the plug bury itself even deeper in my rectum. I open up the folder that contains my special porn, and locate a story about a dominant woman that allows her adult son to stay with her for a while. She comes home from a day out to find him in his room masturbating...
I slowly stroke my hard little cock as I read, lost in the story as the butt plug works its magic. I have already come close to cumming once and have had to back off in order to extend the session. It has been a long time since I have taken the time to enjoy my perversion
Unexpectedly, there is a knock at my bedroom door.
Without further warning the door swings opens. In walks my mother and she heads directly over to the desk where I am sitting. As I turn to face her I realize that in my earlier haste to find and use my plug I left my toy bag open and many of my toys scattered around.
My mother catches my line of sight and turns her head around to see what I am looking guilty about. She then turns back to my computer to see what I am reading. When I look back to my mother I see that she is well dressed, differently than her usual slacks and shirts. It is as if she had just returned from a nice restaurant. She even is wearing heels. They might be just low heels maybe 3 inches, but I haven't seen my mother in heeled shoes in years.
"Stand up," she says in an authoritative voice, and when I am slow to respond she grabs me by the ear and yanks me to my feet. "I said, Stand Up."
She sits down in the chair I have just vacated and begins to read the story I was so engrossed in.
After a few moments of reading she calls back over her shoulder. "I want you naked," she tells me. "Now," she adds.
I begin to take off my remaining clothes, and notice my erection is still sticking out the fly of my briefs.
My mother, not hearing any action behind her, stands up, and slaps me full across the face. "I told you to do something and I expect it done now", she says without raising her voice, "and once you've done what I've told you to, gather those up and close the bag", pointing at the toys strewn on the floor.
"Yes mother" I reply submissively, wondering what in the world has come over her, and what she might have in store for me.
As the last of my clothing hits the floor, I am told to fold my pants and shirt neatly, and place them on the chair. When I complete the task she turns back to face me, and notices my erect, and shaved little soldier.
"Well, after reading this I can see that more than a few things haven't changed much since the last time I saw you naked."
Her words are devastating, and she has me turn around so that she can see that I have also depilated my bottom. It is as hairless as a teenager's, and I am sure she can see the base of the plug sticking out of my ass. As I turn back around I try to cover what little dignity I might have left, she slaps my hands away, and also gives me a resounding slap on my ass.
"I'll have none of that," she says. "A lot of things are going to change around this house, and they are going to start changing right now."
She stands and walks toward the door. "Pick up that bag and follow me," she says as she again points to the toy bag and walks by without looking at me.
"And don't dawdle," she adds, as she walks out the door and down the hallway.
By the time I have grabbed the bag, and begin to follow her, she is rounding the corner of the banister, and is about to descend the stairs to the living room.
She stops as she sees me hesitate.
"Come on little man," she begins, "or should I call you, cornerboi?"
What had begun as a mere hesitation on my part has now brought me to a full stop.
"Wha..." I start.
"I don't think you want to make this any worse than it already is", she says as she looks up at me, and smiles a sly smile, "I know", she says, and then continues down the stairs.
I am humiliated, confused, and not just a little curious as I will my feet to begin moving.
As I get to the bottom step I look up. There you are, sitting regally as always, on my mother's front room couch.
"I see you already know Madam." My mother is looking at me to see my reaction to her words.
"Yes mother, I do," I reply. my eyes are locked on yours. You are smiling like a Cheshire cat.
"cornerboi, I want you to know I called Madam when a strange phone number appeared on my bill. I had already read much of what you have written to her when you foolishly left your computer on and had gone to work. I merely put two and two together, and here we are."
If my mother had seen my correspondence, she knew exactly what my relationship with you has been. She had also seen how explicit you and I have been with each other.
"So why you are still standing?" I look at my mother in confusion.
"Get out your mat and get on your knees."
As I place the bag on the floor, she continues, "and from now on, when you are here like this you will address me as Ma'am."
I hesitate for a moment, and look at You. The narrowing of your eyes tells me all I need to know. "Yes Ma'am"
I open the bag, place the mat on the floor in front of you, and timidly kneel. I begin to feel the familiar pain in my knees that has become an integral part of our play.
Mother continues, "Madam and I have just had a long conversation over lunch, and at my instigation, She has told me a lot about you I wasn't aware of. She has also answered questions about you I have had for a long time. Now I want to hear all about it from you"
"cornerboi, you are about to be severely punished. I'm going to ask you some questions, questions that the answers are already clear to me. The truth of your answers will help me determine just how severely you will be punished."
"cornerboi, why are your genitals shaved," Mother asks.
"Because it is required," I reply.
"And why is that" She asks again.
I look at You, and You nod.
"Because I am a naughty boy", I continue, "and naughty boys don't deserve to have hair down there".
"Yes, cornerboi, that is correct. Now tell Madam what I caught you doing"
I look at You again and if anything Your smile has broadened.
"I was playing with my cock," I say.
Mother is laughing as She speaks again, "I would hardly call that a cock. Real men have cocks."
"That," She says as she points between my legs, "is not a cock. Naughty boys like you have weenies"
Hearing these words, my erection, which had been flagging, begins to grow again.
"So now that we have that established , please tell Madam exactly what I caught you doing."
"I was playing with my weenie" I admit, my erection again at full mast.
"And what happens to naughty boys when they get caught playing with their weenies?"
"They get punished," I say quietly.
"I didn't quite hear you. " Tell us again what happens to naughty boys when they get caught playing with their weenies."
"They get punished," and when I say it louder I hear You chuckle.
"Well then I think we should get on with this."
"cornerboi, I want you to go stand in that corner and put your hands on your head. I don't want you getting into even more trouble with those hands than you already are."
"Yes Ma'am," I reply. With downcast eyes and a much more submissive demeanor I rise from my matt, and walk to the far corner of the entryway. As I face the corner I place my hands on my head. My mind is a whirl.
This particular corner and I have spent a lot of time together under somewhat similar circumstances...
While I am standing there, wondering just what is going on with my mother, I hear the two of you going through my toys. You are explaining the uses of the various items. Some things, like the paddles and straps, are self-explanatory. Others like the clamps, cock strap, ball parachute and weights are not. You both have a good laugh at my dildo collection. I remember the plug still lodged in my ass...
Thirty minutes later mother calls me to come back into the room and kneel on the mat. I see that my toys are arrayed neatly on the floor in front of a kitchen chair that is now placed in the middle of the room. The mat is now facing the chair with what seems like a sea of my toys in between. I stand there looking at all of it.
"Back on your knees," Mother orders with a hard slap to my ass.
I comply quickly. The rough surface of the mat is digging into parts of my knees already sore from the first encounter. You have retaken your seat on the couch, and seem content to watch. You also seem quite amused as you watch me fall into a role you have seen me play for you many times before.
"After looking through the contents of this bag it seems you really are a very naughty boy, aren't you?"
"Yes Ma'am," I answer.
Mother continues, "you play with that little weenie of yours a lot, don't you cornerboi?"
"As I remember you always did, and, in fact, you want to play with it right now, isn't that right?"
"Why is that?"
"Because I'm a naughty boy Ma'am."
"Yes, you most certainly are a naughty boy, and what happens to naughty boys when they get caught playing with themselves?"
"They get punished, Ma'am."
"That's right, they get punished, and punished severely don't they?"
"And how do they get punished?"
"They get spanked, Ma'am."
"Hardly, maybe a disobedient child gets spanked, but naughty boys like you have earned a good beating."
The room is cool, but I can feel myself starting to sweat, as Her interrogation continues.
"Does your wife know you play with yourself?"
"Does she know how much you play with yourself?"
"Not entirely Ma'am."
"Why doesn't she know?"
"Because I hide it from her."
"You hide it from her, how do hide it from her?"
"I do it when she is busy, or away."
She hesitates for a moment and then asks. "Do you satisfy her in bed?"
"With that tiny little weenie, are you capable of satisfying your wife's needs in bed?"
I am mortified at the direction the questions are taking, but my little cock betrays me by staying hard as stone.
My mother looks directly into my eyes, "You're enjoying this aren't you?"
I am surprised by the question, "Ma'am?"
Don't pretend you don't understand me. Answer my question. You're enjoying all of this, aren't you?"
"But..." I stutter."
"Don't equivocate. I'm not so old that I can't recognize an erection when I see one. Your skin is flushed, and I'd have to be deaf not to hear your labored breathing. No, I believe you're deriving some sort of sexual pleasure from this little display."
I wanted to shout it out. Of course I was deriving sexual pleasure. This was one of my deepest, darkest fantasies. Not that I was interested in my own mother that way, but the Dominant Mother, submissive son scenario is one that I had masturbated to often. The humiliation of this situation is something I have always longed for.
But, of course I couldn't let on to that either.
I look down to the floor, and see all my toys arrayed in front of me.
Mother continues, "What is that in your bottom?"
"A, um..., a butt plug, Ma'am."
"And why is it there?"
"Because Madam believes it keeps me focused."
"Does she put other things in your bottom?"
"Can I assume that is what some of these dildos are for?"
I hesitate and look up at you. I know that my place is to amuse you, but it's hard to tell from the look on your face just what you are thinking at the moment.
"Can I also assume that, with these, she uses you as a man would use another man?"
"Yes Ma'am," it comes out almost as a whisper.
"Have you been used by other men this way?"
I hesitate, and try to regain my senses. "It's hard to explain Ma'am. I do it to please Madam."
"Are you Madam's slave then?"
"No Ma'am, I am merely a useless submissive that attempts to amuse Madam so that my needs might be met." ...
Mother was now looking at me differently, "So things really haven't changed that much since I found all those magazines under your bed."
I looked down at the carpet, I could feel the heat in my cheeks.
"Madam tells me that you spank yourself."
"Yes Ma'am, I do."
"Show me what you use."
I bent to pick up a wooden backed hairbrush, and I handed it to Her.
She hefts it and hands it back to me.
"It seems substantial enough. Show me how you use it."
I take the brush back from Her with my left hand, and looked up at Her, questioningly, "Ma'am?"
"Spank yourself with it."
Looking at the brush I turn it over in my hand and sigh, then take the brush back behind me and give my right ass cheek a smack with it.
"Certainly you can do better than that. I want to see you really spank yourself with it."
"Do it again, but harder this time, and then continue spanking yourself until I tell you to stop."
As I bring the brush back to spank my ass again I began to wonder just how far she is planning to take this. I had often spanked myself as a part of my masturbatory sessions, but it wasn't really a punishment and the spankings lasted only long enough to get me off.
I continue on spanking my ass with the brush, but much harder this time. After ten more strokes she stops me again.
"Do you stroke that tiny weenie while you spank yourself," She asked.
"Yes Ma'am, I do," I replied.
"Then stroke it now while you spank yourself."
I look at you. You seem to be having the time of your life, and seem to be on the verge of outright laughter at my expense.
"Do it," You demand, but with a smile.
I take my little cock in my right hand and stroke it slowly as I continue the assault my ass with the hairbrush. With all of the stimulation during the last hour it has remained hard, and I don't know, with the added stimulation of the brush on my ass, if I can last much longer.
"Faster," You order me, and I pick up the pace, both front and rear, as You watch for signs of my impending orgasm.
I am right on the edge. I moan aloud, breathing raggedly, but I stop as I have been trained to do. I also stop spanking myself.
The two of you allow me a few minutes of respite while I get myself under control before my mother finally says, "Perhaps it's time to get on with your punishment."
"I want you to pick the instrument I will punish you with," mother looks at me intently as I scan the items before me.
There was a time when I was a young boy that she had sent me to go get the belt that would be the implement of punishment. That time I had picked a cloth belt I knew wouldn't really hurt. I still have the hairbrush in my hand, but I place it among the other toys, and pick up a paddle that I think will suit my need for penance.
I sheepishly present it to her.
"This should do well. Now place the mat at the back of the chair, stand on it, and bend over," She says as She hefts the paddle in Her hand.
As I stand the blood rushes painfully to my knees from my time on the mat. I know I am helpless to deny mother the right to this castigation. As I do as she demands, I feel the painful prickle of the mat on the bottom of my feet, realizing that this soon will be the least of my worries. Even with my head down I can see your shoes and the hem of your leather skirt as you take up a position in front of me. I assume that your mission is to grab my hands if necessary.
Mother takes a position behind me, and to the left, and I flinch as she taps my already sore ass with the paddle. As much as I thought I might enjoy this, a thread of doubt begins to creep into my thoughts.
"Do you deserve this punishment cornerboi?"
"Yes Ma'am," I reply.
"What have you done to deserve this?"
"I was masturbating without permission, Ma'am."
"You know that evokes stiff penalties and severe punishments?"
"Yes ,Ma'am, the harshest punishment is not enough to pay for what I have done."
"Yes, and you will now experience only a small taste of what is in your future, cornerboi. You have deserved this for a long, long time."
I look up to your face and see a smile cross your lips as you look at me, and then look behind me. In no time I feel the first swat of the paddle crash into my unprotected bottom.
Mother isn't fooling around, and I wonder just how much I can take of this before I break down completely.
A second swat falls, then a third, then a dozen more. I am teetering on the edge and my mother is wasting no time inflicting a very real punishment to my sorry ass. Tears begin with the second dozen, and I break down in sobs with the third. While I understand that I truly deserve this punishment, the thought doesn't make the pain any easier to endure.
And still there is no respite.
I lose count after fourth dozen, and I hope it will not go on much longer, but my mother is unrelenting.
Again I look into your eyes and see you are smiling down cruelly at me. After a few more minutes, mother begins to slow down a bit. I know I will be a very sorry boy when this is over.
Finally the swats slow to a stop, the paddle is tossed to the floor, and I can hear mother's heavy breathing.
I am told to stand up and walk to the corner, put my hands behind my head, and I am reminded what will happen if I touch my now blazing behind. Stiffly I stand, and tearfully obey. Mother informs me that the "fun" is far from over, there will be even more punishment after she has had a short rest.
As I walk to the corner the tears continue to flow and I am wondering what I have gotten myself into, knowing full well I did bring this upon myself. My burning, bruised hindquarters will be a reminder of my sins for days to come.
My cock is soft, my mouth is dry, and I am sweating profusely. My feet ache from their time on the mat, and my knees are weak. There has been nothing sexual about this punishment, and I am definitely not looking forward to more of the same. After a few minutes I begin to get control of myself. I hear the clinks of the cups as You and Ma'am enjoy a cup of tea. The two of you are talking in low tones and although I can't really hear it, I have no doubts what the conversation is about.
I have no idea of the passage of time, but it seems an eternity before I hear the cups being put aside and the sound of your heels on the parquet floor as you approach me from behind. However, I am still surprised and shocked when I feel your fingers clamp on my earlobe as you drag me back to the area assigned for my punishment.
You look me in the eye and tell me to "make it hard." Your tone indicates you will accept no rebellion.
It takes a few minutes, but between looking at you and occasionally looking down at my toys spread out before me I begin to feel my cock swelling to a full erection. You allow me to take myself right to the edge of orgasm, and tell me to stop.
Mother is sitting on the couch watching the proceedings. I still don't know what your conversation was about, but the two of you have obviously come to some conclusion as to what the rest of my punishment will be.