My Mom Spanked My Bare Bottom 1984
Note to the reader: This is part of a series of spanking stories I've wanted to write for years in reference to my favorite novel, 1984. I read 1984 in college and fell in love with the novel from the start. There is something wonderful and sick and twisted about the world George Orwell painted in this work. I admit you have to be pretty sick and twisted to fantasize about wanting to live in that Big Brother world of 1984 as I have. I felt a thrill when I stumbled upon the novel's scene describing the booklet Spanking Stories. It appears in part two chapter three and Julia tells Winston about her job in, "Pornosec, the sub-section of the Fiction Department which turned out cheap pornography for distribution among the proles...There she had remained for a year, helping to produce booklets in sealed packets with titles like Spanking Stories or One Night in a Girl's School, to be bought furtively by proletarian youths who were under the impression that they were buying something illegal."
Winston asked Julia what the booklets were like. Julia said, "'Oh, ghastly rubbish. They're boring, really. They only have six plots, but they swap them round a bit."
Julia and Winston have a love affair and things inevitably go to hell for them, but I still fantasized about being Julia (hence my favorite pen name Julie) in 1984. I fantasized that if I lived in the 1984 world I would dress and undress in front of the telescreen (where the Thought Police monitor your every action) and would seduce political party members. Like Julia I would also work for Pornosec. I fantasized in detail about the cheap dirty stories I would have written for Spanking Stories. Before I could never anonymously write these stories, but now with thanks to literotica.com, I can. These stories I write will be "ghastly rubbish" complete with bad spelling and typos as they should be for a cheap booklet of spanking stories. It won't be hard for me to write ghastly as I am a lousy writer, and while I feel lousy about how I write I feel good about writing this story. This is a story I want to write, and I've written stories (such as My Blonde Step Mom Spanked Me) in the past just to make other people happy, and some of the stories that I've vomited out onto the computer screen and that were published online disgust me but this new series of stories will be different.
These stories will be published separately with 1984 in the titles. This story is the second story in the series, but, don't worry, you do not have to read the stories in any particular order and it will probably take me some time to write them all. The stories are all separate works in and of themselves...For those of you who haven't read 1984, don't worry it is not required reading for these stories but shame on you for not reading this book, and you should be spanked over your lover's knee for not reading 1984...
Joe lived in the Proletarian quarters and worked at a factory producing bomb fuses. He was a greasy faced youth of 19 who lived in his parents flat in a quarter six miles north of the Ministry of Truth. One Friday evening after work Joe felt restless and wandered into a newsstand next to the Lemon Tree Cafe. An old gentleman, with the name Charrington on his name tag, stood in the newsstand and smiled genially at Joe who fingered some of the magazine titles. They were mostly chess magazines such as Chess Theory in Relation to INGSOC Today, and Youth League Chess. There were a few party publications in relation to Big Brother and Newspeek magazines but Joe wasn't looking for anything like this. He wanted a "blue" booklet. A blue booklet was an illegal work called blue by the proles because of the blue plastic the booklets were wrapped in. Joe heard a rumor at work that being caught purchasing or possessing a blue booklet was punishable by 5 years in a forced labor camp. However, Joe was a desperate lonely youth who wanted to read something that would excite him after a week of drudgery in the factory.
The old man Charrington walked over next to Joe and coughed. Charrington smiled and asked, "Is there something I can help you find young man?" Last April Joe bought a blue booklet titled One Night in a Girl's School at this newsstand from a bumbling youth behind this newsstand's counter. Joe looked at the old man with his eyeglasses and gray hair and felt safe that the old man was not be a member of the Spies or The Thought Police. "Well," Joe stammered, "I was, ah, ah wondering if you may uh, have any, oh, blue booklets."
Charrington smiled and said, "I know how important it is to have the freedom to look at such periodicals without being embarrassed about purchasing them. Come with me." Charrington led Joe to the back of the newsstand next to the cash register and opened an old shabby black briefcase. "These were smuggled into London last night. Prime reading!" Charrington winked. Joe looked inside the briefcase and inside were two dozen copies of a blue booklet: Spanking Stories. Joe could only read the title as the rest of the magazine was covered in the plastic. "How much?" Joe asked.
Charrington whistled and said, "Two Ten Bob Notes."
Joe knew he was getting ripped off but he felt desperate. He paid Charrington and tucked the booklet into his jacket pocket. Joe strode down a sidewalk terrified of being stopped by a police patrol and being searched. As he hustled through he passed several posters of Big Brother, which were typically enlarged photos of a man's head who's eyes were large and round and seemed to be looking at you from whatever angle you looked at the poster. Fortunately, no patrols stopped him and he soon walked into his parent's house, which, by good fortune, was empty. Joe ran down the hallway, into his bedroom, and removed the booklet from his jacket. He locked his bedroom door, unbuttoned his pants and sat on his bed. He tore open the stubborn plastic wrapping and looked at the cover. Under the title Spanking Stories, was a cheap black and white photo cover of a large 30-year-old-blonde woman dressed in a house dress holding a wooden hairbrush handle in her right palm while glaring at a slim sexy 20-year-old-blonde woman in a short skirt who held the palms of her hands on the seat of her apple-shaped butt. Joe guessed that the picture implied that the 30 year old had just spanked the 20 year old and he felt aroused thinking of this scenario.
Joe opened the booklet and fanned through the stiff pages to see if there were any more photographs or drawings. There were none and he felt a tingle of disappointment by the booklet's cheap binding. Inside the front cover of the booklet was a brief enigmatic sentence: "Published by Emmanuel Goldstein Productions. Copyright 1983." Joe shut the booklet and reopened it to a page at random and chanced on a story entitled: I Spanked My Son's Bottom by Anonymous. Joe stroked his cock in his underwear until finished the story and felt aroused. While he was not attracted to his own Mom he found the fantasy degrading and wonderful at the same time. He pictured Emma the Mommy as the girl on the booklet's cover. Joe took down his pants and underwear and lay across his pillow. He stroked his cock in and out of a fold in the pillow case and thrust his hips until he had a orgasm. Afterward he took a nap and awoke at 23:00 hours. He picked up the Spanking Stories booklet and paged to the next story called My Mom Spanked My Bare Bottom.
"My Mom Spanked My Bare Bottom"
I sat on my bed half asleep smoking a Victory cigarette when suddenly Emma burst into my room shouting, "young man, what are you doing?"
I stammered, "Aw, Emma, I'm just smoking. I'm 18 now and I can do what I want."
Emma stood with her hands on her hips and scowled at me while she said, "It's dangerous to smoke, and don't call me Emma! I adopted you so call me Mom!"
I said, "Yes, Mom. But I've been 18 for a month. You can't make me stop. I'm old enough to smoke now."
"Not under my roof!" Mom said crossing my arms. "Put it out right this instant or I will spank you!"
I laughed. No one had ever spanked me and it wasn't going to happen now. Sure, she was taller and bigger than me with large hips. Yet she had a narrow waist and shoulder length curly blonde hair that was very appealing to me. I'm not much of a breast man so I couldn't tell you the size but they looked like more than a handful. Her apple-shaped butt was her best feature, and I walked behind her up many a stairway before watching her butt cheeks flex up every step. I took the cigarette out of my mouth and waved it at her with ashes falling on the cement floor, "I'm too old to be spanked!"
Mom said, "You can go out and live on the street if you are not going to live by my rules." At this my stomach shot a stabbing pain. The thought of trying to make a living and finding a flat of my own terrified me. She continued, "I adopted you from the Proletarian Youth League two years ago because I wanted to take in a child in my empty house. But I'm not going to let you fall victim to cancer like my husband did." Mom put her face two inches from mine and I could smell her sweet perfume. She snapped, "Put that cigarette out right now or I will spank you, young man!"
I smiled and put the cigarette back in my mouth and inhaled deeply. I blew a large stream of smoke into her face, and she reached her right hand out and snatched the cigarette out of my fingers and dropped the cigarette on the floor. She took her right foot, which was sexily dressed in a black knee length leather boot, and rubbed the heal of it on the cigarette. "Stand up and do as I say or I will call the police and have you removed from my house."
I felt sick at the thought of going on the street and decided to obey her, "Yes, Emma."
She frowned and said, "Call me Mom, no--make that Mommy or I will spank you with my hairbrush."
I gulped and said, "Yes Mommy." Saying Mommy brought the blood to my face and gave me a sick delightful thrill. I said, "But do you really have to s-s-s-spank me?"
She said, "Yes. Mommy knows best" She sat down on my bed, and I watched as her knee-length baby blue cotton dress rode up her thighs and bared them. She reached over and grabbed my belt buckle. She stared into my eyes and unbuckled the belt. My jeans were too big for me and fell down to my knees. I felt humilated to be standing in front of her in my underwear for the first time. She said, "Lay across my lap, son."
"Yes, Mommy." I lowered myself across her lap, and I was ashamed to be laying face down across her exposed in this position. I stared down at the floor wondering what she was thinking. I felt her put her fingertips into the elastic wasitband of my underwear and tug the underwear down to the top of my thighs. My penis was now pressing against her naked smooth fleshy bare thighs.
She said, "Mommy is ashamed to have to spank her grown son like this. You will get a hairbrush spanking if you ever smoke again. Understand?"
Mommy commenced slapping my naked bottom. She gave me a rapid flurry of open-palmed smacks, and the pain was sharp and stinging. I groaned and tried to shift my weight to and fro on her thighs to try to avoid some the slaps, but she was relentless and stayed focus on my lower bottom, which sent of an odd tingling sensation to my penis. She lectured me, "Mommy is very disappointed in you! Shame on you! You are very naughty, naughty boy! Will I have to spank you over my lap again?"
I felt my penis growing large and hard and felt deeply ashamed to be aroused by this treatment. I cried out, "No, Mommy! No!"
Mommy stopped the spanking and said, "Stand up, son."
I stood up and my penis was erect and throbbing. She pointed at my penis and asked, "Have you ever touched that before, son?"
I lied and said, "No, Mommy. The leaders at Youth Camp told us we would go blind if we touched ourselves, and if we went blind we would be sent to a labor camp for 30 years."
Mommy stared at my penis and said, "They were right to tell you this, and you should never touch your penis. Only your Mommy or the woman you will someday marry should touch it. I am going to help you take care of your penis so it will go back to it's normal state. Does that sound good to you son?"
I felt relieved and said, "Oh, yes Mommy. It strains something terrible and keeps me up at night."
She cooed, "Mommy knows." She laid on my bed face down and hiked her dress over her butt and tugged down her bright yellow panties to her knees. She turned head over her shoulder with her sexy blonde hair falling across her face and whispered, "Take off your underwear all the way and lay on top of Mommy, son." I dropped my shorts and jumped atop her. I poked my penis around her but felt stupid for not knowing where exactly to push it. I'd never been with a woman, and everything I heard about sex was from the Youth League and most of it was probably lies. Thank Big Brother, because Mommy reached between her thighs and took hold of my penis and guided the tip inside of her pussy. I moaned and shuddered as I inserted the tip into her tight crevice. She asked, "How does Mommy's pussy feel to you son?"
I moaned and said, "Like velvet."
Mommy instructed me to go in and out with only half of my cock as slow as I could. I didn't think I'd last long and soon she said, "Give me all of your cock, son!"
I groaned, "Yes Mommy." I had to grab her by the hair across her shoulders to hang on to her because her hips were gyrating back and forth. I felt a wonderful spinning sensation in my head and shouted, "Oh, thank you Mommy!" I shot a load into her pussy, and I felt the life draining out of my penis. Soon we laid on our sides with my cock to against her smooth wide butt, and she wiggled back and forth while I loved the feeling of Mommy's softness.
Joe finished the story and felt a little ripped off. Had the author just swapped the plot around from I Spanked My Son's Bottom to give the son's side of this story? On the other hand, he felt turned on reading the son's point of view and read the story again picturing himself as the son, and he pictured his neighbor, Mrs. Parsons, as his Mother. He felt another erection and laid himself face down on his bed. He smacked his bare bottom a few times while masturbating and soon experienced a mind-cleansing orgasm.