When guilt strikes

I was home alone…. In the shower. The warm water washed over my head and back.

A deep feeling of guilt in the pit of my stomach panged. I also felt uncontrollably horny but I refused to let my hands go near my genital area.

Masturbating is a sin. I knew that. Also even if it was not a sin, I had not worked out for nearly a week. At the begging of the year I had committed to a training session at least once a night, so why would I reward bad behaviour with an orgasm. I wouldn’t.

Glancing behind the shower curtain I listened for any noise. No one was home. The key in the back door to make sure no one could get in.

I left the shower running but stepped out of the water. I took my thick plastic watch off the side and held it tight in my right hand. Holding it loosely in my hand I let it swing, the small part of the strap and the watch itself dangled in the air. The large part of the strap acting like the handle of a whip. The watch itself adding weight to the whip.

“I wonder ? “ I thought as I turned myself into the spanker and the spanked.

I did this by giving my right arm and hand to miss miller. This was my old school teacher. In my mind she is making the descition on the punishment and when she says strike the arm will respond regardless to how much pain I am in. In doing this I don’t let myself off the hook lightly.

The other part of me, places me in a conversation with Miss miller. I am stood in front of her and she is looking at me. Her eyes calm and kind. But her words sharp.

Upper inner thigh, 50 lashes on each side.

I place my left hand in front of my genitalia. Lifting the watch strap I close my eyes as I bring it down hard.

“Thwack!” I breath in shallowly and my naked body bends forwards. That was a hell of a lot more painful then expected.

“Thwack!, 26!” Miss millers voice demands the next strike. Same place.

“Thwack 43!” I notice that I am no longer horney, my guilt is subsiding and there is a dark black bruise forming in the inner thigh.

“THWACK” I shout out as the 50th consistent lash strikes my soft inner thigh.

The next fifty are just as painful, same bruises now directly parallel to each other.

Mrs miller smiles.

Raising the watch I close my eyes and remove my hand from protecting my genitalia. The watch strikes the groin area hard making me yell out.

5 stokes directly to my groin for even thinking about masturbating.

On the fifth I crawl into a ball and cry.

My punishment severe…. But now over.

That night I awoke to my wife tapping me awake. We had been together for 16 years. I a 36 year old woman placed my arm around her and kissed her forehead.

“What’s wrong” I whispered.

She slightly older then me pointed to my upper thigh.

“What have you done to your legs?”

She asked confused and concerned.

Emberressed I covered them over quickly. I had not expected my shorts to raise up in my sleep.

I had always vowed to be honest to my wife so I told her what had happened from start to finish. My thoughts, feelings, emotions, everything that happened that day in the shower.

“I am disappointed you didn’t come to me sooner, I am sad that you felt the need to hide this from me. And I am sad you didn’t ask me to punish you.”

Shocked by this revelation I sat up and stared at her a little surprised that she would be open to such a thought. In 16 years I had never explained or tried to tell her how I felt as I had always been ashamed of who I was.

“Lie down” she whispered gently pushing me back into the bed. Clicking on the bedside lamp and turning off her phone torch Lisa pulled my shorts down below my knees.

She then walked out of the bedroom and returned minutes later with a wooden spoon.

Raising it above my right thigh she looked me directly in the eye and whispered.

“Now you will be properly punished” before bringing it down super hard across the front of my leg.

Arching my back I screamed in agony.

“Count to 50” she whispered.