Stepmom’s Deal
Baruch Shamayim Zayit (Blessed Heavens Olive in Hebrew ) an Assyrian Jewish boy about 12 years old, stood in front of his stepmother Iyotaka Wanjbli (sitting eagle in Lakota) a Lakota Sioux Amerindian Woman about 42 years old, just like his father Even more than the year 2000 his mother had died in the Afghanistan war. He was only two years old in October 2002 a year after the war began. 10 years later, his father decided to remarry going out with Wanjbli For six months, bring her over occasionally During that period to meet him. After a private wedding in a courthouse, which he and several other officials were witnesses, his dad decided to leave his new wife and his son alone until 4 o’clock to allow them to get to know each other. She had a friendly smile on her face until his father left their apartment, then she got a mischievous smirk on her face.
His apartment was inside a building made of white-concrete, black-painted steel, and reflective-glass. He and his father, and now his new stepmother lived in Washington DC in the apartment. The building was about a mile from and as tall as the Washington Monument. His father‘s family had fled Iraq due to persecution from anti-Jewish and anti-Christian Muslims, as they were messianic Jews, and went to Israel. This was at the very start of World War II in 1939. After Pearl Harbor in December 7, 1941, the Zayits decided to join the office of strategic services and help the American war effort hoping they could make to achieve the American dream. Their service eventually got them a plane ticket from Israel, which at this point was the British Palestine Mandate to Washington DC. I live in DC His dad and his dad’s family had protested against the American government for turning away, so many Jesus was during the war when the man could’ve saved their lives and they fought for a civil rights. Mr. Zayit was a veterinarian, and because of his busy job and his wife’s busy job when She was still alive, he had to get babysitters and nannies to take care of his son. Baruch, Due to not seeing his father often didn’t have as close bond with him as he did with some of the sitters and Nannies.
"Baruch," she began, her tone shifting to one that was a mix of sweetness and firmness, "have you ever been spanked by the babysitters or nannies that your father hired?" Despite the fact that she had already discussed this with his dad, she asked him directly, knowing full well the answer. Baruch nervously nodded his head, his heart racing as he thought about the few times he had been on the receiving end of their discipline.
“Yes, Wanjbli. My father told my various sitters and nannies that they could use whatever form of discipline they deemed necessary to keep me in line and make sure I was well behaved and stayed out of mischief.”
His stepmom had given him permission to call her whatever he likes whether by her first name last name or stepmom or mom. She said that she knew it would take time for them to get used to each other.
Wanjibli leaned in closer to him and whispered, "You know, part of the reason I married your father was because I found out he had a young boy like you.”
“W-What do you mean?”
“I mean that when I used to work as a babysitter, and I don’t have to anymore because your father gave me a $10,000 monthly allowance, the parents of the kids I watched they gave me permission to spank their cute little butts if they didn’t behave or do what I said.”
“Let me guess, you had to play the role of the wise, Indian sage, who had words of wisdom to impart possess spiritual knowledge, and was the medicine woman with herbs that could treat any illness to get that job, didn’t you?” Baruch asked with a frown at the prejudice, he knew his stepmom face and a sympathetic look in his eyes. The smirk on her face disappeared for a few moments and she replied, “Yes, unfortunately. But you have to do what you have to do.”
Then it reappeared and she said, “At first I only spanked them if they were naughty. But as time went on, I came to revel in the power I had over them, the way they’d squirm and cry when I held them down firmly over my lap, their tiny bottoms bared for me to spank with whatever implement I chose—whether it was a hairbrush, a belt, or just my hand. The more pink or purple their skin turned, the more satisfaction I felt. I also liked seeing the fear in their eyes as I would sit down and pat my lap or a point at it, telling them to bend over. The way that many of them would flinch as I would pat a hairbrush on or snap a belt in my hand thrilled me to my very core. As much as I enjoyed battering their behinds, ordering them around, like when I would point to the corner and tell them to stand in it and not rub their bums, or at a chair, the bed, or the arm of the couch and tell them to bend over it for spanking, was also a lot of fun. I loved cooking their adorable little biscuits so much that I start to make a deal with the ones who weren’t naughty who didn’t get a mischief and who were well-behaved. It’s the same one. I’m going to offer you, Baruch.”
“What deal is that, Wanjbli?” he asked in an anxious tone.
“The deal is simple, Baruch,” Wanjbli explained, her eyes gleaming with excitement.
“I’ll let you stay up as late as you want, watch adult movies and play adult video games that your father won’t let you play, eat all the junk food you want whenever you want, buy you whatever you ask me, or I could just give you money, and take you on trips to wherever you want, as long as you agree to let me bake your buns whenever I see fit.”
Wanjibli's voice was like a siren's song, promising him a world of indulgence and freedom beyond his wildest dreams.
Baruch's mind raced with the possibilities. He had always been a good kid, but the occasional slip-up had earned him a swift smack on the rear from his previous caretakers. The thought of being able to do whatever he wanted was tempting, but the price was steep—his dignity and the stinging pain of a spanking. Yet, the promise of a world without limits was hard to resist. He looked up at her, his eyes searching for any sign of deception, but all he found was the warmth of her smile and the sparkle in her hazel eyes that seemed to hold the answer to all his desires.
“You don’t have to make a decision right now, honey,” his stepmother reassured him, walking forward to ruffle his strawberry blonde hair, which was straight and reached his chin.
“You can think about it for as long as you need to. I’ll be watching TV in the living room.”
She walked away from him, for both of them have been standing 3 feet in front of the door after his father left, and sat on the black leather couch in the expanse living room. She picked up the remote and turned on the chrome TV that had a black screen, flipping channels until she reach a 24 hour news network. Her feet rested in the dark blue carpet that covered the living room floor and above her was a ceiling fan with white blades attached to the white ceiling. Wanjibil was wearing pink socks, A cotton T-shirt that had the design of a grizzly bear charging up a green grassy Hill, and khaki pants that were designed with a bald eagle soaring through the clouds. Baruch watched her for a few seconds before going to his bedroom to think about her offer. For about three minutes, he weighed the benefits in the detriments before coming back out to the living room Wanjibil turned to look at him as he neared the couch.
"Ok Wanjbli," he said hesitantly, "I'll let you spank me."
Wanjbli's face lit up like a Christmas tree. She squealed with delight, jumping to her feet, her cinnamon braids bouncing around her waist. She wrapped her arms around Baruch in a tight embrace, her ample bosom pressing against his face as she lifts him off the floor. He felt his cheeks burning as he blushed, turning his already, pink tone skin on his face and even deeper shade of pink. The warmth of her body enveloped him and her sweet scent filled his nose.
“You may have a little trouble sitting for the next week or two Baruch, but I promise that you won’t regret this,” the Lakota sioux woman said a playfully sadistic yet reassuring tone as she stared down at the boy who had become her stepson.
Wanjbli pulled back with a smirk, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Alright then, little one," she said, her voice dripping with sweetness. "Why don't you go to your room and wait for me there? I won't be long, I just have to get... ready." She gestured vaguely with her hand, allowing him to interpret it as he liked. Baruch nodded, his heart racing with a mix of excitement and trepidation as he turned and what back across the carpet to his bedroom door, closing it behind him.
As soon as he heard the click of the door shut, Wanjibli sprang into action. She unbuckled the rattlesnake skin belt from her eagle pants, wrapping it around her hand and feeling the coolness of the leather, along the weight of the metal buckle. She strode to the kitchen and grabbed the cutting board first, then the pasta spoon, feeling the power in her grasp. The kitchen head white sandstone for unlike the rest of the apartment, which was carpeted.
The cutting board was heavy and solid, the perfect tool to keep him in place, she thought with a smirk. It’s 6 inch wide. Foot-long size would also cover his entire butt. The stainless steel pasta spoon with the two rod-shaped holes at the top was an old favorite of hers—it had served her well in the past, and she was eager to see the effect it would have on Baruch's tender skin. She knew the holes would reduce air resistance, allowing for a swifter, more painful smack.
Entering his bedroom, she couldn't help but admire the exotic animal-themed decor. The zebra carpet was plush and inviting, contrasting with the vivid images of wildlife on the walls. It was a stark contrast to the scene that was about to unfold. She could see the fear in his eyes as she approached, her arms laden with the tools of her trade. The sight of the belt, cutting board, and spoon had him trembling slightly, his knees knocking together as he sat to the bed.
"Now, now, Baruch," she said soothingly, setting the cutting board and spoon down on the bed.
"Don't be scared. This is all part of the deal, remember?"
She sat down next to him, her legs crossing as she leaned in to whisper in his ear, her breath hot against his cheek. "You want all those fun things I promised, right?"
Baruch nodded, his voice small and trembling. "Yes, Wanjbli."
With a gleeful smirk, she patted her lap, "Good boy. Now, stand up, honey."
Baruch complied, his legs wobbly as he pushed himself up from the bed and stood in front of his stepmother. Wanjbli reached out and unbuckled his black leather belt, which were holding up his blue, jean shorts, then unbuttoned them as well, pulling them down to his ankles.
The sight of his Clifford the big red dog underwear brought a smirk to her face, which she quickly stifled a laugh at. Baruch blushed even deeper, unable to meet her gaze.
"Now, don't be shy, Baruch," she said, her voice a mix of amusement and sternness.
"We all have our favorite characters, and Clifford is quite adorable. But let's not forget, you're going to get spanked like a naughty little puppy, okay?"
He nodded slightly, trying to hold back his embarrassment as she talked about his favorite cartoon character?
Wanjbli couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction. She leaned over and whispered into his ear, "You know what, Baruch? I think Clifford is way better than that bear, Winnie the Pooh. He's so much more... adventurous."
Her words made him blush even more, and she took that as a sign of his embarrassment. She loved the power she had over him in that moment, and she was eager to begin their new arrangement.
Wanjbili's eyes gleamed as she grabbed the waistband of his underwear and pulled it down in one swift motion, exposing his penis and testicles. "Oh, Baruch," she cooed, "you're such a cute little boy, aren't you?" She took a moment to appreciate the sight before her, her eyes lingering on his private parts. She had seen many young boys in her time, but there was something special about her new stepson that made her heart race.
Assuming a mock angry expression, she pointed to her lap. "Now, get over here!" she demanded. "You know what's coming, young man, and you're going to take it like a champ."
Baruch swallowed hard, his knees trembling as he carefully bent over and positioned himself across her firm, welcoming thighs. The anticipation was almost unbearable, his heart racing in his chest. Wanjibli took a moment to appreciate the view, her eyes roaming over his exposed buttocks, which she found utterly adorable.
“Your butt cheeks look like tasty bread rolls, Baruch. I could just eat them up!” she said, making him go beat red yet again.
With a smug smirk, she began to rub his bottom with a gentle but firm grip, occasionally letting her nails graze his sensitive flesh, making him squirm. She took her time, enjoying the way his body reacted to her touch. 30 seconds later, Wanjbli Stopped rubbing and raised her hand high into the air, enjoying the feel of his body tensing in fearful an anticipation.
“You can flail your arms and kick your legs and wiggle, but if you try to get off of my lap or block my slaps to your butt with your feet or hands, I will start all over! Do you understand me, young man?!” The sadistic new stepmother asked her new stepson.
“Yes, ma’am” he whispered meekly, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own racing heart.
Wanjbili’s strong left arm wrapped around his waist like a vice, holding him firmly in place. With a wicked grin, she raised her right hand and brought it down with a resounding smack onto one of his plump butt cheeks. The impact was so intense that it left a handprint on his pale skin, turning it a rosy shade of red. Baruch let out a yelp that sounded like a lamb’s bleat, which only served to fuel her excitement. The sound of his pain and submission sent a thrill down her spine, and she reveled in the power she held over him.
Her rhythm was unpredictable and merciless. One moment she’d give him a single, stinging spank every second, the next she’d rain down a flurry of four rapid-fire smacks, alternating between both cheeks. She didn’t miss an inch of his bottom, making sure to give attention to the areas that usually escaped a spanking—the top of his butt, right below the base of his spine, and his sensitive sit spots where his cheeks met his thighs. Each smack elicited a new sound from him, ranging from high-pitched squeaks to deep, guttural moans. He didn’t bother to hold back his tears; they flowed freely down his cheeks and onto the bed spread, soaking the sheets. Baruch fear that trying to act tough would only make Wanjbli spank him harder and faster so he let go emotionally.
As she spanked him, Wanjibli leaned in and whispered sweet nothings into his ear. "You're such a good boy for taking this for me," she cooed.
“Such a good little boy."
Her words only added to the confusion swirling in his mind. He didn't understand why this was happening or why it felt both wrong and oddly comforting. His body was on fire with pain, but he couldn’t ignore the strange sense of warmth and belonging that seemed to spread from her touch.
Baruch's sobs grew louder as she continued her relentless assault on his defenseless bottom. He was wailing like a newborn infant now, and through the blur of pain, he found himself calling out to her, "Mommy, please stop ?!"
It was a word he hadn’t used since he was two and his biological mother died, but in this moment of fear and vulnerability, it slipped from his lips like a reflex.
Wanjbli’s palm hovered in the air as she paused the spanking. The term of endearment he had just uttered sent a thrill through her body that was almost as potent as the sound of his cries of pain.
“Oh, Baruch, calling me mommy while I’m giving you such a good thrashing,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, yet filled with a hint of something else—something that made his stomach flutter.
“You know how much that makes me feel powerful, don’t you? It’s like you’re admitting that I’m the one in charge now. And let me tell you, I’ve never had children of my own, so having you call me that, especially in this moment, makes me feel like the queen of the world!”
Wanjibli’s eyes sparkled with a mix of satisfaction and a hint of sadistic glee as she took in his desperate plea. She had always yearned for the love and authority that came with motherhood, and now she had it, in a way that was entirely under her control.
“You’re just like all the other little ones who have called me mommy while I've been baking their biscuits,” she murmured, her hand resuming its punishing dance on his reddened skin.
Five minutes later, she stopped. His cries had turned into hiccups and his bottom was a fiery shade of crimson, with the outline of her hand clearly visible. Wanjbili’s own hand stung from the exertion, but she felt a strange sense of euphoria. She gently lifted him off her lap and laid him on the bed, his legs dangling over the edge. “You’ve been such a brave boy, Baruch,” she said, her voice still holding that playful yet authoritative tone.
“Now, let’s get you some water for that throat of yours.” Wanjbili said, her voice soft and soothing, as if the pain she had just inflicted was a distant memory. She sped-walked out of his bedroom and into the kitchen, leaving Baruch lying there, his bottom feeling like it was on fire.
The seconds ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity to the trembling boy. When Wanjbili returned 1/4 of a minute later with the ice water, he grabbed the plastic cup with trembling hands, eager for any relief. The cold liquid was heavenly as it flowed down his parched throat, soothing the raw ache from his screams. The relief was short-lived, however, as the sudden influx of cold water caused his bladder to protest.
Baruch scurried to the bathroom, his bare bottom bouncing with each step. The cold tiles beneath his feet provided a stark contrast to the burning heat on his buttocks. He quickly did his business and his stepmom said from outside, “Make sure to wash your hands Baruch !”
Wanjbli Heard the water running and smiled as she Heard him washing his hands.
“Good boy, Baruch,” she said as he emerged from the bathroom, his cheeks still stained with tears.
Wanjibli's expression was one of maternal pride, yet there was an undeniable hunger in her eyes as she took him back over her lap. The plush cushion of the bed beneath him felt cold against his bare skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of his stepmother's thighs. He couldn’t help but tense up again as he felt the cool metal of the silver pasta spoon against his hot, sensitive bottom.
With another wicked smile, she raised the spoon high in the air, felt him tense once more, brought it crashing down onto his left cheek. Just like her hand, the spoon left a livid mark on his bum, distinguishable even on the swollen pink skin. The sound echoed through the room, a sharp 'thwack' that made him yelp. She waited a full second before delivering another, even harder smack to the right cheek. He could feel the imprint of the spoon, the metal leaving a searing line of pain. Wanjibli began to pepper his fanny with the spoon, each smack landing with precision and leaving no part of his bottom untouched.
Baruch's body jerked and writhed with every hit, his hands gripping the bed sheets tightly as he fought the urge to cover his burning skin. The pain grew more intense with each strike, but so did the strange sense of belonging that had taken root within him. He was aware of his stepmother's strength and authority, and despite the agony, he felt a twisted comfort in her do
His apartment was inside a building made of white-concrete, black-painted steel, and reflective-glass. He and his father, and now his new stepmother lived in Washington DC in the apartment. The building was about a mile from and as tall as the Washington Monument. His father‘s family had fled Iraq due to persecution from anti-Jewish and anti-Christian Muslims, as they were messianic Jews, and went to Israel. This was at the very start of World War II in 1939. After Pearl Harbor in December 7, 1941, the Zayits decided to join the office of strategic services and help the American war effort hoping they could make to achieve the American dream. Their service eventually got them a plane ticket from Israel, which at this point was the British Palestine Mandate to Washington DC. I live in DC His dad and his dad’s family had protested against the American government for turning away, so many Jesus was during the war when the man could’ve saved their lives and they fought for a civil rights. Mr. Zayit was a veterinarian, and because of his busy job and his wife’s busy job when She was still alive, he had to get babysitters and nannies to take care of his son. Baruch, Due to not seeing his father often didn’t have as close bond with him as he did with some of the sitters and Nannies.
"Baruch," she began, her tone shifting to one that was a mix of sweetness and firmness, "have you ever been spanked by the babysitters or nannies that your father hired?" Despite the fact that she had already discussed this with his dad, she asked him directly, knowing full well the answer. Baruch nervously nodded his head, his heart racing as he thought about the few times he had been on the receiving end of their discipline.
“Yes, Wanjbli. My father told my various sitters and nannies that they could use whatever form of discipline they deemed necessary to keep me in line and make sure I was well behaved and stayed out of mischief.”
His stepmom had given him permission to call her whatever he likes whether by her first name last name or stepmom or mom. She said that she knew it would take time for them to get used to each other.
Wanjibli leaned in closer to him and whispered, "You know, part of the reason I married your father was because I found out he had a young boy like you.”
“W-What do you mean?”
“I mean that when I used to work as a babysitter, and I don’t have to anymore because your father gave me a $10,000 monthly allowance, the parents of the kids I watched they gave me permission to spank their cute little butts if they didn’t behave or do what I said.”
“Let me guess, you had to play the role of the wise, Indian sage, who had words of wisdom to impart possess spiritual knowledge, and was the medicine woman with herbs that could treat any illness to get that job, didn’t you?” Baruch asked with a frown at the prejudice, he knew his stepmom face and a sympathetic look in his eyes. The smirk on her face disappeared for a few moments and she replied, “Yes, unfortunately. But you have to do what you have to do.”
Then it reappeared and she said, “At first I only spanked them if they were naughty. But as time went on, I came to revel in the power I had over them, the way they’d squirm and cry when I held them down firmly over my lap, their tiny bottoms bared for me to spank with whatever implement I chose—whether it was a hairbrush, a belt, or just my hand. The more pink or purple their skin turned, the more satisfaction I felt. I also liked seeing the fear in their eyes as I would sit down and pat my lap or a point at it, telling them to bend over. The way that many of them would flinch as I would pat a hairbrush on or snap a belt in my hand thrilled me to my very core. As much as I enjoyed battering their behinds, ordering them around, like when I would point to the corner and tell them to stand in it and not rub their bums, or at a chair, the bed, or the arm of the couch and tell them to bend over it for spanking, was also a lot of fun. I loved cooking their adorable little biscuits so much that I start to make a deal with the ones who weren’t naughty who didn’t get a mischief and who were well-behaved. It’s the same one. I’m going to offer you, Baruch.”
“What deal is that, Wanjbli?” he asked in an anxious tone.
“The deal is simple, Baruch,” Wanjbli explained, her eyes gleaming with excitement.
“I’ll let you stay up as late as you want, watch adult movies and play adult video games that your father won’t let you play, eat all the junk food you want whenever you want, buy you whatever you ask me, or I could just give you money, and take you on trips to wherever you want, as long as you agree to let me bake your buns whenever I see fit.”
Wanjibli's voice was like a siren's song, promising him a world of indulgence and freedom beyond his wildest dreams.
Baruch's mind raced with the possibilities. He had always been a good kid, but the occasional slip-up had earned him a swift smack on the rear from his previous caretakers. The thought of being able to do whatever he wanted was tempting, but the price was steep—his dignity and the stinging pain of a spanking. Yet, the promise of a world without limits was hard to resist. He looked up at her, his eyes searching for any sign of deception, but all he found was the warmth of her smile and the sparkle in her hazel eyes that seemed to hold the answer to all his desires.
“You don’t have to make a decision right now, honey,” his stepmother reassured him, walking forward to ruffle his strawberry blonde hair, which was straight and reached his chin.
“You can think about it for as long as you need to. I’ll be watching TV in the living room.”
She walked away from him, for both of them have been standing 3 feet in front of the door after his father left, and sat on the black leather couch in the expanse living room. She picked up the remote and turned on the chrome TV that had a black screen, flipping channels until she reach a 24 hour news network. Her feet rested in the dark blue carpet that covered the living room floor and above her was a ceiling fan with white blades attached to the white ceiling. Wanjibil was wearing pink socks, A cotton T-shirt that had the design of a grizzly bear charging up a green grassy Hill, and khaki pants that were designed with a bald eagle soaring through the clouds. Baruch watched her for a few seconds before going to his bedroom to think about her offer. For about three minutes, he weighed the benefits in the detriments before coming back out to the living room Wanjibil turned to look at him as he neared the couch.
"Ok Wanjbli," he said hesitantly, "I'll let you spank me."
Wanjbli's face lit up like a Christmas tree. She squealed with delight, jumping to her feet, her cinnamon braids bouncing around her waist. She wrapped her arms around Baruch in a tight embrace, her ample bosom pressing against his face as she lifts him off the floor. He felt his cheeks burning as he blushed, turning his already, pink tone skin on his face and even deeper shade of pink. The warmth of her body enveloped him and her sweet scent filled his nose.
“You may have a little trouble sitting for the next week or two Baruch, but I promise that you won’t regret this,” the Lakota sioux woman said a playfully sadistic yet reassuring tone as she stared down at the boy who had become her stepson.
Wanjbli pulled back with a smirk, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Alright then, little one," she said, her voice dripping with sweetness. "Why don't you go to your room and wait for me there? I won't be long, I just have to get... ready." She gestured vaguely with her hand, allowing him to interpret it as he liked. Baruch nodded, his heart racing with a mix of excitement and trepidation as he turned and what back across the carpet to his bedroom door, closing it behind him.
As soon as he heard the click of the door shut, Wanjibli sprang into action. She unbuckled the rattlesnake skin belt from her eagle pants, wrapping it around her hand and feeling the coolness of the leather, along the weight of the metal buckle. She strode to the kitchen and grabbed the cutting board first, then the pasta spoon, feeling the power in her grasp. The kitchen head white sandstone for unlike the rest of the apartment, which was carpeted.
The cutting board was heavy and solid, the perfect tool to keep him in place, she thought with a smirk. It’s 6 inch wide. Foot-long size would also cover his entire butt. The stainless steel pasta spoon with the two rod-shaped holes at the top was an old favorite of hers—it had served her well in the past, and she was eager to see the effect it would have on Baruch's tender skin. She knew the holes would reduce air resistance, allowing for a swifter, more painful smack.
Entering his bedroom, she couldn't help but admire the exotic animal-themed decor. The zebra carpet was plush and inviting, contrasting with the vivid images of wildlife on the walls. It was a stark contrast to the scene that was about to unfold. She could see the fear in his eyes as she approached, her arms laden with the tools of her trade. The sight of the belt, cutting board, and spoon had him trembling slightly, his knees knocking together as he sat to the bed.
"Now, now, Baruch," she said soothingly, setting the cutting board and spoon down on the bed.
"Don't be scared. This is all part of the deal, remember?"
She sat down next to him, her legs crossing as she leaned in to whisper in his ear, her breath hot against his cheek. "You want all those fun things I promised, right?"
Baruch nodded, his voice small and trembling. "Yes, Wanjbli."
With a gleeful smirk, she patted her lap, "Good boy. Now, stand up, honey."
Baruch complied, his legs wobbly as he pushed himself up from the bed and stood in front of his stepmother. Wanjbli reached out and unbuckled his black leather belt, which were holding up his blue, jean shorts, then unbuttoned them as well, pulling them down to his ankles.
The sight of his Clifford the big red dog underwear brought a smirk to her face, which she quickly stifled a laugh at. Baruch blushed even deeper, unable to meet her gaze.
"Now, don't be shy, Baruch," she said, her voice a mix of amusement and sternness.
"We all have our favorite characters, and Clifford is quite adorable. But let's not forget, you're going to get spanked like a naughty little puppy, okay?"
He nodded slightly, trying to hold back his embarrassment as she talked about his favorite cartoon character?
Wanjbli couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction. She leaned over and whispered into his ear, "You know what, Baruch? I think Clifford is way better than that bear, Winnie the Pooh. He's so much more... adventurous."
Her words made him blush even more, and she took that as a sign of his embarrassment. She loved the power she had over him in that moment, and she was eager to begin their new arrangement.
Wanjbili's eyes gleamed as she grabbed the waistband of his underwear and pulled it down in one swift motion, exposing his penis and testicles. "Oh, Baruch," she cooed, "you're such a cute little boy, aren't you?" She took a moment to appreciate the sight before her, her eyes lingering on his private parts. She had seen many young boys in her time, but there was something special about her new stepson that made her heart race.
Assuming a mock angry expression, she pointed to her lap. "Now, get over here!" she demanded. "You know what's coming, young man, and you're going to take it like a champ."
Baruch swallowed hard, his knees trembling as he carefully bent over and positioned himself across her firm, welcoming thighs. The anticipation was almost unbearable, his heart racing in his chest. Wanjibli took a moment to appreciate the view, her eyes roaming over his exposed buttocks, which she found utterly adorable.
“Your butt cheeks look like tasty bread rolls, Baruch. I could just eat them up!” she said, making him go beat red yet again.
With a smug smirk, she began to rub his bottom with a gentle but firm grip, occasionally letting her nails graze his sensitive flesh, making him squirm. She took her time, enjoying the way his body reacted to her touch. 30 seconds later, Wanjbli Stopped rubbing and raised her hand high into the air, enjoying the feel of his body tensing in fearful an anticipation.
“You can flail your arms and kick your legs and wiggle, but if you try to get off of my lap or block my slaps to your butt with your feet or hands, I will start all over! Do you understand me, young man?!” The sadistic new stepmother asked her new stepson.
“Yes, ma’am” he whispered meekly, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own racing heart.
Wanjbili’s strong left arm wrapped around his waist like a vice, holding him firmly in place. With a wicked grin, she raised her right hand and brought it down with a resounding smack onto one of his plump butt cheeks. The impact was so intense that it left a handprint on his pale skin, turning it a rosy shade of red. Baruch let out a yelp that sounded like a lamb’s bleat, which only served to fuel her excitement. The sound of his pain and submission sent a thrill down her spine, and she reveled in the power she held over him.
Her rhythm was unpredictable and merciless. One moment she’d give him a single, stinging spank every second, the next she’d rain down a flurry of four rapid-fire smacks, alternating between both cheeks. She didn’t miss an inch of his bottom, making sure to give attention to the areas that usually escaped a spanking—the top of his butt, right below the base of his spine, and his sensitive sit spots where his cheeks met his thighs. Each smack elicited a new sound from him, ranging from high-pitched squeaks to deep, guttural moans. He didn’t bother to hold back his tears; they flowed freely down his cheeks and onto the bed spread, soaking the sheets. Baruch fear that trying to act tough would only make Wanjbli spank him harder and faster so he let go emotionally.
As she spanked him, Wanjibli leaned in and whispered sweet nothings into his ear. "You're such a good boy for taking this for me," she cooed.
“Such a good little boy."
Her words only added to the confusion swirling in his mind. He didn't understand why this was happening or why it felt both wrong and oddly comforting. His body was on fire with pain, but he couldn’t ignore the strange sense of warmth and belonging that seemed to spread from her touch.
Baruch's sobs grew louder as she continued her relentless assault on his defenseless bottom. He was wailing like a newborn infant now, and through the blur of pain, he found himself calling out to her, "Mommy, please stop ?!"
It was a word he hadn’t used since he was two and his biological mother died, but in this moment of fear and vulnerability, it slipped from his lips like a reflex.
Wanjbli’s palm hovered in the air as she paused the spanking. The term of endearment he had just uttered sent a thrill through her body that was almost as potent as the sound of his cries of pain.
“Oh, Baruch, calling me mommy while I’m giving you such a good thrashing,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, yet filled with a hint of something else—something that made his stomach flutter.
“You know how much that makes me feel powerful, don’t you? It’s like you’re admitting that I’m the one in charge now. And let me tell you, I’ve never had children of my own, so having you call me that, especially in this moment, makes me feel like the queen of the world!”
Wanjibli’s eyes sparkled with a mix of satisfaction and a hint of sadistic glee as she took in his desperate plea. She had always yearned for the love and authority that came with motherhood, and now she had it, in a way that was entirely under her control.
“You’re just like all the other little ones who have called me mommy while I've been baking their biscuits,” she murmured, her hand resuming its punishing dance on his reddened skin.
Five minutes later, she stopped. His cries had turned into hiccups and his bottom was a fiery shade of crimson, with the outline of her hand clearly visible. Wanjbili’s own hand stung from the exertion, but she felt a strange sense of euphoria. She gently lifted him off her lap and laid him on the bed, his legs dangling over the edge. “You’ve been such a brave boy, Baruch,” she said, her voice still holding that playful yet authoritative tone.
“Now, let’s get you some water for that throat of yours.” Wanjbili said, her voice soft and soothing, as if the pain she had just inflicted was a distant memory. She sped-walked out of his bedroom and into the kitchen, leaving Baruch lying there, his bottom feeling like it was on fire.
The seconds ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity to the trembling boy. When Wanjbili returned 1/4 of a minute later with the ice water, he grabbed the plastic cup with trembling hands, eager for any relief. The cold liquid was heavenly as it flowed down his parched throat, soothing the raw ache from his screams. The relief was short-lived, however, as the sudden influx of cold water caused his bladder to protest.
Baruch scurried to the bathroom, his bare bottom bouncing with each step. The cold tiles beneath his feet provided a stark contrast to the burning heat on his buttocks. He quickly did his business and his stepmom said from outside, “Make sure to wash your hands Baruch !”
Wanjbli Heard the water running and smiled as she Heard him washing his hands.
“Good boy, Baruch,” she said as he emerged from the bathroom, his cheeks still stained with tears.
Wanjibli's expression was one of maternal pride, yet there was an undeniable hunger in her eyes as she took him back over her lap. The plush cushion of the bed beneath him felt cold against his bare skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of his stepmother's thighs. He couldn’t help but tense up again as he felt the cool metal of the silver pasta spoon against his hot, sensitive bottom.
With another wicked smile, she raised the spoon high in the air, felt him tense once more, brought it crashing down onto his left cheek. Just like her hand, the spoon left a livid mark on his bum, distinguishable even on the swollen pink skin. The sound echoed through the room, a sharp 'thwack' that made him yelp. She waited a full second before delivering another, even harder smack to the right cheek. He could feel the imprint of the spoon, the metal leaving a searing line of pain. Wanjibli began to pepper his fanny with the spoon, each smack landing with precision and leaving no part of his bottom untouched.
Baruch's body jerked and writhed with every hit, his hands gripping the bed sheets tightly as he fought the urge to cover his burning skin. The pain grew more intense with each strike, but so did the strange sense of belonging that had taken root within him. He was aware of his stepmother's strength and authority, and despite the agony, he felt a twisted comfort in her do
31-35, M
