Amy’s Femdom Blog

I am waiting when you come home. I am barefoot, wearing very short cutoff jeans and a loose pink tank top, holding the tawse in my hands. I run my hands up and down it, feeling the supple leather under my skin. It isn’t long before you return.

You walk in the door. I am standing, legs spread apart, holding the tawse with both hands in front of me. “You know what you’ve got coming”, I say.

You close the door behind yourself. I grab a tight knot of your hair in my left hand, holding the tawse in my right. I pull your face close to mine and snarl. “I want you down on all fours right here, right now. Take your fucking pants down. You’re getting your ass beat.”

I release your hair and you drop to your knees, your hands already undoing your belt. You lower your face to the floor as you lower your pants and boxers. You then put your hands down on either side of your head, pressed against the tile of our entry hall. You know the position. We’ve done this before.

I slap the tawse against the palm of my left hand. You wince at the sharp noise. I begin to pad around you in my bare feet as you kneel. I slap the tawse against my hand again. “I’m getting tired of having to do this, brat. You need to learn to behave.”

I pad around to the vulnerable bare ass that you are presenting to me. I run the tawse slowly across your bare skin. “Until you learn to behave, you’re going to keep getting your ass beat.”

I bring the tawse back and swing, hard, the leather smacking and stinging your bare ass. You make a soft, involuntary moan as the tawse connects. I bring it back again, swing, and smack you again, leading to another low moan.

I smack twice more in quick succession. Your exposed bare ass is already turning pink. I swing again, delivering another painful smack. You grunt and wince at the painful swat. Two more quick, hard smacks bring more moans from you. Your stinging ass is quickly becoming bright red, and I decide to tease you about it.

“Look at your red ass. You are a naughty little boy who can’t learn how to behave.” I deliver another stinging swat and kneel next to your sore ass. Your pants and boxers are around your knees, and your balls hang down between your legs. I grab them and squeeze, hard. “Naughty little boys who can’t learn how to behave get to meet my nasty little friend. Do you want to keep having these sessions with my nasty little friend? Because that’s what we’re going to do until you learn.” I let go of your balls and stand, bring the tawse back and swing, smacking your red ass hard. I give you two more quick, hard swats while you wince and moan. I lean forward and rub my hand across your sore and stinging skin. I bring the tawse back again and give you another hard swat. You moan again. I kneel and grab your balls again, squeezing hard. “My nasty little friend can smack you all day.”

I release your balls, stand, and deliver another stinging smack. I give three more, one after the other, each hard and stinging. I stop, walk over to the wall, and move a chair that I’ve had waiting in front of your face. I sit down in front of you and cross my legs.

I’ve been going barefoot all day. In our apartment, in the parking lot, in the garden outside. The soles of my feet are dirty. I run my bare big toe along the side of your face, the other side of your face still pressed against the tile. “I want you to clean my feet. With your pathetic tongue. I want them clean, not wet. So don’t slobber, or we can start all over again.”

For this installment of Spanking My Boyfriend, I wanted to do a flashback to a spanking that I gave to a boyfriend in high school, Phil. Phil was kind of a smaller guy, shorter than me, with black hair that hung just past his ears. Phil and my friend Heather and I were alone at my house one afternoon, sitting around my room watching TV. We were joking about different things, and Phil said something, I forget what, but I responded by telling him that he needed a spanking for saying it. Heather laughed and said, “Ooo, spank him, spank his ass,” slapping her thigh as though someone were bent over her knee.

I laughed and looked at Phil, sitting on the bed next to me. He was wearing a white t-shirt and oversized cargo shorts with black flip flops. I said, “You deserve a spanking, you little bitch,” took his chin in my hand, and, smiling, said, “bend over.”

Phil kind of laughed and made some little joke about it. I reached over his shoulder and grabbed the back of his shirt behind his neck, hard, and pulled him across my lap. “You’re getting a spanking.” Heather giggled.

I started to slap his tight ass, hard, with my open palm, across the back of his shorts. “This is what happens to naughty little boys,” I said, smiling as I did. Heather got up from the bean bag where she had been sitting and walked over beside us, facing Phil’s face. She knelt besite us, getting her face right in Phil’s while asking him how he felt and teasing him as I continued spanking his ass.

I must have given Phil about a hundred swats across his shorts. While I was spanking, Heather stood up, grasped the bedpost nearest to her, lifted her right leg, and pressed her bare foot across Phil’s face while I spanked him. She shoved back on his head with her foot, continuing to tease him as he lay over my knee. My left hand lay flat across his back while I swatted hard with my right hand. I could feel his cock getting hard against my thigh.

Finally deciding that Phil had been adequately punished, I gave him a final hard swat and said, “I hope that you remember this.” Heather removed her foot and put it back down on the floor; I pulled Phil up off my lap by the back of his shirt. His face was bright red. I’m sure that his ass was, too.

I spank my boyfriend. Actually, now that I think about it, I’ve spanked every boyfriend I’ve ever had at least once, and most of them have been over my knee more than a few times. There is a wonderful and incredibly liberating feeling that comes from feeling his body bent over my lap, feeling my hand on his ass, and smacking as hard as I can until he squeals and moans and starts to squirm.

I love sitting down on the couch, legs together tightly, glaring at him angrily, and pointing down at my knee, waiting for him to obey. Other times I squeeze his face in my hand tightly, snarl at him, telling him what a spoiled little brat he is and how he knows what’s coming to him, and sit down quickly, shoving him over my knee while ordering, “Over my knee NOW”.

My boyfriend also knows how to bend over for the paddle or the cane. He’s also had to bring me a belt on a number of occasions. Most of the time, he is made to bring me the proper implement and to bend over, lower his pants and underwear, spread his, legs and grab his ankles. He must wait in this position while I lecture him, slapping the paddle or cane on my hand or snapping the belt as I do to remind him of what’s coming. Other times, when he has been especially impertinent, he must strip naked, bring me my chosen tool on his hands and knees, in his mouth, and remain on his hands and knees while his tight ass is punished. But spankings are often very spontaneous, and there are no set rules to our play. Sometimes I come up with fun new ideas, like making him wear my clothes for punishment.

So I’ve decided to write a series of articles for this blog about spankings my boyfriends have received over the years. I want to start with a humiliating public spanking my present boyfriend received a few months ago.

We were in our living room, sitting with two other couple who were over, both of whom we had known for about a year, having met through a mutual interest in BDSM. He and I were sitting next to each other on the couch; I was barefoot, wearing a cute green plaid skirt and a white t-shirt; he was wearing oversized bluejeans, cuffed at the ankles, and a black hoodie. He was also barefoot. He wears big black boots with heavy socks out, but goes barefoot around the house, like I always do.

The subject of conversation had somehow gotten on spanking (as it seems to more often that I might expect), and he mentioned always needed to be spanked. His arm was over my shoulder and he was sitting crosslegged next to me on the couch. I laughed and said that he’s had to spend quite a bit of time over my knee and in the corner afterwards; everyone laughed. Then my boyfriend mentioned that he was “owed” a spanking, and looked at my face, rubbing my back where nobody else could see.

In one swift motion, I had my hand behind his back and him bent across my lap. His position on the couch had made it very easy. I gave him two quick swats with my open hand across his butt in jeans, loudly saying how he did have it coming to him. I reached under him and found his belt already undone, quickly slid my hand around to the middle of his back and yanked his loose jeans and boxers down with one move. I began slapping hard on his bare ass with my open palm as the others watched, loudly telling him what a long time he’d had this coming for, what an impertinent little brat he was, and about how much more he had coming to him. I slapped his tight ass at least sixty or seventy times, until well after he had begun to wince and moan, before I finally asked him if he was ready to obey and allowed him to stand up. I then ordered him to stand in the corner until after our guests had left, and went on to spend a very pleasant evening with them.