I knew from reading the old Victorian era punishment book that it’s philosophy was built on finding the exact sanction for each child or adolescent that will finally convince them to stop an undesired behavior or start a desired one. To that end, the book was filled with various methods of causing embarrassment and inflicting pain that should be tried on an ever increasing intensity scale. I sensed that turning 16 and finally being stripped completely opened a new chapter in the book. I figured it was only a matter of time before my discipline got escalated.
About ever one or two weeks I got more spankings in various states of undress for my misdeeds. Once I had to come down to the living room after my shower and drop my towel. The belt felt extra sharp on my damp bottom that night. Another time I had to pull my jeans and panties down to my knees as soon as I got home from school and waddle down to the basement for a spanking with the carpet beater. In every case I got extremely horny and masturbated as soon as I was able.
My mom and I had a heart to heart one night. She said “Heather, why can’t you just do what you know you are supposed to do? You know we have to make thinks worse if you won’t straighten up” as she checked on me before bed. I said “I know mom. I can’t really answer why I can’t behave. But I understand. And, I’m not going to go back to grounding. I hate it. So you can just assume I’m going to take a book punishment unless I say something to the contrary.” She nodded. Then she said “you always seem to act right for a week or so after you get punished. Maybe I just need to punish you weekly for good measure”. She had a joking time. We both laughed a little but I knew I wouldn’t be opposed to it. However, she just said “try to act right so you don’t have to get it any worse”. I said “I’ll try”.
Of course, despite a mild effort on my part, I still got in trouble regularly. One day after school Timmy and I were doing our homework at the kitchen table. Dad came in mad that someone had left his grill uncovered last night and it had rained. He was worried it would rust and ruin the top. I admitted it was me. I’d done it just to be disobedient. He and mom talked for a while then came in. Mom said “Ok Heather, stand up. Get you shirt and bra off. You could have ruined your dad’s grill top, so now he’s going to ruin your top”. I stood up and pulled off my tee shirt, then undid my little bra. My small boobies jiggled as I stood shifting my weight foot to foot. “Stand tall, arms behind your back” she said. I did as she directed. Dad got the wooden spoon.
I watched with anticipation, and so did my mom and Timmy, as he came and put a hand on my shoulder. Then SMASH he brought the spoon down hard on the top of my right breast. I groaned as I felt the impact against my little bee sting of a boob. He alternated breasts smacking one then the other. I began to cry as he swung multiple times upward against the more sensetive underside of my boobs. I could feel the breast buds inside my chest bumps begining to feel bruised. I screeched loudly as he moved to my hard little nipples, smacking them directly with the back of the spoon. Timmy and mom just watched, each interested for different reasons, as dad gave me my first boob spanking.
When he was finally done ‘ruining my top’, I was bawling. It made my boobs sore to breath. They were reddish and definitely going to bruise some. Mom brought the punishment book over. She pointed to a paragraph. She said “read this part”. I sniffled then began to read saying “an adolescent girl’s breasts should not be avoided during discipline. Quite the contrary. The heightened sensitivity of forming breasts help the subject learn faster and better”. Mom took the book back “I guess we will see if this technique works better for you. Leave these on finish your homework” she said.
With that she attached a wooden clothespin to each nipple. The unrelenting pinch and the hanging weight enhancing the pain and soreness of my first boob spanking. She made me sit at the table and finish my homework like that despite how difficult it made it to concentrate. Timmy couldn’t stop looking at my punished breasts. I even had to stay like that through dinner. The humiliation and pain made me wet. I could actually feel the dampness in my panties.
After dinner I was allowed to go upstairs to go to bed. The stairs were brutal as the clothespins swung painfully from my pinched purple nipples. Yet, when I got to my room I didn’t take the clothespins off. I instead took my bottoms off. I pushed my finger between my labia and into my well lubricated hole. I finger fucked my pushy as I stood naked in front of my full length mirror. One hand worked my hole as the other drifted down to rub my clit. I made myself bounce with my knees which made the clothespins swing wildly from my nipples. The pain mixed perfectly with the pleasure I felt between my legs until I watched myself quiver, soaked with sweat, in an intense full body orgasm. It made it worth the soreness and tenderness I felt in my books for the next two weeks.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/6xh6at/my_discipline_part_4_mf_humiliation_breast
https://www.reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/6x0g5u/my_discipline_part_3_mf_spanking_humiliation