Punished by Nigerian lady for breaking her window
(This story is fiction. Don’t read if spanking of children offends you)
When I was ten years old, in the year 1997, I was playing with some boys from my school. We were practicing knocking coconuts out of trees on the beach with slingshots and boomerangs. I missed my target and hit a beach house two stories high twenty feet away from the sand nestled among the coconuts trees.
All boys immediately took off, except for me. I walked away from the beach slowly but steadily and towards the house. I knocked on the door and a gorgeous woman with golden-blonde hair in a long pony-tail, an orange-and-black-striped sleeveless shirt, a sunflower designed skirt, and pink leather sandals. Her skin was pale, like the inside of bark-stripped wood.
“What can I do for you young man?” she asked, her voice a combination of confusion and irritation.
“I’m here to apologize ma’am,” I replied.
“I was knocking coconuts out of trees with my friends on the beach, but I missed and hit your window. I’ll help you clean it up and do housework for you if you want. If you want money, I can’t get my parents to pay.”
The woman shook her head and said, “That won’t be necessary. I’ll pay for it myself. I’m rich, even though I don’t live in a big house. I’ll clean up the glass myself. You don’t have to do any work around here, I want to do some work on your buttcheeks.”
“WHUH?!” I exclaimed in a flabbergasted voice. She was smirking now and leaned close to my face.
“You heard me young man. I intend to spank your little bum until you can’t sit for a month and it’s purple. Naughty children become nice very quickly when their buns are roasted. I used to work as a teacher as an adult, and a babysitter when I was a teenager, and my hand has had long conversations with many childrens’s rear ends. So has my slipper, shoe, ruler wooden, spoon hairbrush, belt, cane, and many other of my possessions. It would be best if you didn’t get in trouble with your parents don’t you think?”
I knew my mom and dad would be upset, especially if they had to pay for the window that he broke so I said, “Uh-huh.”
“Great! So I’ll just spank you instead, and then we’ll be square. You ever been punished that way honey?” she asked.
I shook my head no, and she looked at me in surprise. Even though she didn’t say it, I knew she thought that all or most black or Asian parents (I’m part Filipino, part Malian, and it shows on my visage) beat their children’s asses. I explained to her that my parents viewed hitting children any time for any reason as abusive. Then she shrugged and said, “Well then this should be a new experience for you. I like fresh meat. Come on in.”
She led me by the hand into her humble abode, and immediately noticed it was covered in African memorabilia; figurines, paintings, wood carvings, and pelts. Before I could ask, she elaborated that she was born in Nigeria to Dutch-Jewish parents. They moved to America during the civil war of 1967-1970.
“I may be white, but I’m as native to Africa as black Americans and Africans are,” the beautiful woman said proudly.
When she asked about my family, I said,” I’m an only child. My father is a Marine Reservist, and his ancestors were from Mali and taken to the U.S as slaves. My mother is a musician who immigrated who grew up in poverty and immigrated from the Philippines. She’s a musician with her own band; she sings and plays traditional Filipino instruments.”
“Cool…Oh I’m so rude! I should be spanked too! I haven’t even asked your name! What is it honey? My name’s Schoonheid Rietje.”
The glamorous female explained that it meant beauty straw in English.
“I’m Isaac Lorenzo Pastol, named after Isaac Hayes and Lorenzo Ruiz, the patron saint of the Philippines. My last name means herder in English,” I explained in turn to Rietje.
She replied that that was good for me. Leading me to her bedroom, which had a purple carpet, and African Savannah, Rhinos, Giraffes, Cheetahs, and lions painted the wall, and a bed spread with an leopard stalking through the jungle painted on it, she put her two pillows on top of one another in the center.
“When I come back from cleaning up your mess, I want you lying over them and all of your clothes off boy!” Rietje ordered sternly. The she left, and I didn’t dare disobey. In ten seconds, I was naked as the day I was born. When I laid over the pillow, my fear of my upcoming punishment and of Schoonheid seeing me unclothed, made me erect. The gorgeous woman soon returned carrying a metal spatula with a wooden handle. Schoonheid grinned at my fearful face, and, upon seeing me and my position, called me a good boy. Then she bent over and stroked my gluteus Maximus, smiling as I gasped in pleasure.
“Your biscuits look so delicious. They remind me of chocolate covered balls. I could just eat them up!” Rietje said excitedly. She spent sixty seconds gently taking big bites out of my butt cheeks while I moaned. Then she reached under me and felt my erection. I looked at her in shock, and she said, “Looks like someone’s getting excited,” in a racy tone of voice. Next she took the burgundy leather belt out of my pants and tied my wrists. Next, this white African woman took a black mamba snakeskin belt from her closet and tied my ankles. She said that she knew spankings were painful and that I wouldn’t be able to stay in position. Finally, Schoonheid placed the metal against my bare skin, making me flinch and say, “C-Cold.”
“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m warm you right up,” Rietje said with an even wider grin. The she pinned my waist down with her hand, raised the kitchen tool, and slammed it into my dark brown globes.
SMACK!
“MMMMPH!”
I pushed my face into the covers to muffle my screams.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“UMMMM! UMMMPPHH!”
Schoonheid hit me once every second, 120 in total. Those two minutes felt like an eternity. When she stopped, I was sobbing uncontrollably, and my gluteus Maximus throbbing painfully. Lifting my chin, my disciplinarian said, “I’m afraid we’re not done yet sweetie.” She picked me up, slung me over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and carried me to her living room. Sitting down on her chinchilla couch, Schooneid rubbed my ass with her bare slender hand.
“I like hand spanking and OTK the best because of the physical intimacy,” Schoonheid explained. This time she spanked me four times each second for one minute, giving my arse 240 blows in all. Her palm striking the spatula -shaped welts on my rear-end was twice as painful and I dug my face deeper into the couch seat. While spanking, Schoonheid rubbed her thighs against my penis, making it harden in thirty seconds, then cum in another thirty. I apologized frantically, but she shushed me saying she wanted and caused it to happen. When it was over, Rietje helped me up, led me to a corner, and said. “You’ll stand in this corner for an hour, with your hands on your head. If you move, I’ll whack those cute little butt cheeks hard. Understood?”
“Yes ma’am,” I answered. She nodded and left the room, coming back in a minute and a half swishing something through the air. I didn’t dare turn around to see what. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t keep my arms up more than five minutes and broke position twelve times, and in turn she hit me with what I recognized as a teacher pointer stick twelve times in turn. “YYEEOOWW!” I screamed, no longer having anything to muffle my wails, and clenched my rear end and hopped sprung like a kangaroo. Schoonheid didn’t start over, but told me that the time I spent out of position didn’t count, so I had to stand longer than sixty minutes. The last blow struck the crease between my thighs and behind, making me pass out. I was awakened by feeling of cold cream on my ass. Looking back, I saw Rietje squirting a handful of Aloe Vera lotion onto both of my glutes. I shivered at the cold feeling, then pleasurably moaned as she rubbed it in.
“OOOOOOHHHH GGOODD! I-It f-feels SSSOOO g-good M-Ms. R-Rietje! P-Please d-don’t s-stop!”
“What ever you say cutie pie!”
She repeated this action ten times in 5 minutes. The Schoonheid took me back to her bedroom and had me look in her rectangular mirror against the wall.
“Your biscuits are a beautiful collage,” she said as I observed the twelve rod-shaped welts, spatula marks, and handprints jumbled together on my posterior.
Then told me to get in an all-fours position on the bed.
“I’m going to milk you and kiss your bum all better,” she explained and proceeded to literally kiss my ass seven times on each globe and twice on my anus. Then the beautiful spanker stroked my manhood slowly and made me “come” all over her mattress cover in 15 seconds. My orgasm lasted for 60 seconds under her ministrations, and I squealed like a pig. Then she said, “Go take a shower cutie pie. The Bathroom’s right next door.” I obeyed without hesitation, figuring out how it worked on my own, and enjoyed the hot water against my pulverized ass. Once I finished seven minutes later, I exited the shower and Schoonheid opened the door holding an orange towel. After drying me off, she lifted me up by my armpits, pushed my head into her bosom (she wasn’t wearing a bra and showed some cleavage), and caressed my butt.
“We should do this more often sweetie-pie. Come see me whenever you have the time, okay?” she asked in a mischievous tone. “Absolutely,” I answered, my voice muffled by her soft breasts.
“Oh and make sure to keep this a secret,” she said sternly.
“We’ll both be in huge trouble if you don’t.”
I looked up at her serious face and nodded.
“I know you didn’t enjoy the spanks, but what about the other stuff I did? Do you feel dirty or like I hurt or used you?”
“Of course not! That felt great!”
Smiling at my exclamation, Schoonheid peppered my face with kisses. I giggled and said, “Stop that tickles!”
Rietje gave me a wicked grin and I realized I misspoke. She whisked me to the bedroom and blew raspberries into my belly while I squealed. Schoonheid followed up by tickling my belly button, armpits, toes, feet, elbows, and knee pits. For my feet she used her fingers, teeth, and tongue, saying,
“MMMM, yummy, these are almost as tasty and delicious as your glutes!”
Six minutes later, I dressed and left her house.
When I was ten years old, in the year 1997, I was playing with some boys from my school. We were practicing knocking coconuts out of trees on the beach with slingshots and boomerangs. I missed my target and hit a beach house two stories high twenty feet away from the sand nestled among the coconuts trees.
All boys immediately took off, except for me. I walked away from the beach slowly but steadily and towards the house. I knocked on the door and a gorgeous woman with golden-blonde hair in a long pony-tail, an orange-and-black-striped sleeveless shirt, a sunflower designed skirt, and pink leather sandals. Her skin was pale, like the inside of bark-stripped wood.
“What can I do for you young man?” she asked, her voice a combination of confusion and irritation.
“I’m here to apologize ma’am,” I replied.
“I was knocking coconuts out of trees with my friends on the beach, but I missed and hit your window. I’ll help you clean it up and do housework for you if you want. If you want money, I can’t get my parents to pay.”
The woman shook her head and said, “That won’t be necessary. I’ll pay for it myself. I’m rich, even though I don’t live in a big house. I’ll clean up the glass myself. You don’t have to do any work around here, I want to do some work on your buttcheeks.”
“WHUH?!” I exclaimed in a flabbergasted voice. She was smirking now and leaned close to my face.
“You heard me young man. I intend to spank your little bum until you can’t sit for a month and it’s purple. Naughty children become nice very quickly when their buns are roasted. I used to work as a teacher as an adult, and a babysitter when I was a teenager, and my hand has had long conversations with many childrens’s rear ends. So has my slipper, shoe, ruler wooden, spoon hairbrush, belt, cane, and many other of my possessions. It would be best if you didn’t get in trouble with your parents don’t you think?”
I knew my mom and dad would be upset, especially if they had to pay for the window that he broke so I said, “Uh-huh.”
“Great! So I’ll just spank you instead, and then we’ll be square. You ever been punished that way honey?” she asked.
I shook my head no, and she looked at me in surprise. Even though she didn’t say it, I knew she thought that all or most black or Asian parents (I’m part Filipino, part Malian, and it shows on my visage) beat their children’s asses. I explained to her that my parents viewed hitting children any time for any reason as abusive. Then she shrugged and said, “Well then this should be a new experience for you. I like fresh meat. Come on in.”
She led me by the hand into her humble abode, and immediately noticed it was covered in African memorabilia; figurines, paintings, wood carvings, and pelts. Before I could ask, she elaborated that she was born in Nigeria to Dutch-Jewish parents. They moved to America during the civil war of 1967-1970.
“I may be white, but I’m as native to Africa as black Americans and Africans are,” the beautiful woman said proudly.
When she asked about my family, I said,” I’m an only child. My father is a Marine Reservist, and his ancestors were from Mali and taken to the U.S as slaves. My mother is a musician who immigrated who grew up in poverty and immigrated from the Philippines. She’s a musician with her own band; she sings and plays traditional Filipino instruments.”
“Cool…Oh I’m so rude! I should be spanked too! I haven’t even asked your name! What is it honey? My name’s Schoonheid Rietje.”
The glamorous female explained that it meant beauty straw in English.
“I’m Isaac Lorenzo Pastol, named after Isaac Hayes and Lorenzo Ruiz, the patron saint of the Philippines. My last name means herder in English,” I explained in turn to Rietje.
She replied that that was good for me. Leading me to her bedroom, which had a purple carpet, and African Savannah, Rhinos, Giraffes, Cheetahs, and lions painted the wall, and a bed spread with an leopard stalking through the jungle painted on it, she put her two pillows on top of one another in the center.
“When I come back from cleaning up your mess, I want you lying over them and all of your clothes off boy!” Rietje ordered sternly. The she left, and I didn’t dare disobey. In ten seconds, I was naked as the day I was born. When I laid over the pillow, my fear of my upcoming punishment and of Schoonheid seeing me unclothed, made me erect. The gorgeous woman soon returned carrying a metal spatula with a wooden handle. Schoonheid grinned at my fearful face, and, upon seeing me and my position, called me a good boy. Then she bent over and stroked my gluteus Maximus, smiling as I gasped in pleasure.
“Your biscuits look so delicious. They remind me of chocolate covered balls. I could just eat them up!” Rietje said excitedly. She spent sixty seconds gently taking big bites out of my butt cheeks while I moaned. Then she reached under me and felt my erection. I looked at her in shock, and she said, “Looks like someone’s getting excited,” in a racy tone of voice. Next she took the burgundy leather belt out of my pants and tied my wrists. Next, this white African woman took a black mamba snakeskin belt from her closet and tied my ankles. She said that she knew spankings were painful and that I wouldn’t be able to stay in position. Finally, Schoonheid placed the metal against my bare skin, making me flinch and say, “C-Cold.”
“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m warm you right up,” Rietje said with an even wider grin. The she pinned my waist down with her hand, raised the kitchen tool, and slammed it into my dark brown globes.
SMACK!
“MMMMPH!”
I pushed my face into the covers to muffle my screams.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“UMMMM! UMMMPPHH!”
Schoonheid hit me once every second, 120 in total. Those two minutes felt like an eternity. When she stopped, I was sobbing uncontrollably, and my gluteus Maximus throbbing painfully. Lifting my chin, my disciplinarian said, “I’m afraid we’re not done yet sweetie.” She picked me up, slung me over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and carried me to her living room. Sitting down on her chinchilla couch, Schooneid rubbed my ass with her bare slender hand.
“I like hand spanking and OTK the best because of the physical intimacy,” Schoonheid explained. This time she spanked me four times each second for one minute, giving my arse 240 blows in all. Her palm striking the spatula -shaped welts on my rear-end was twice as painful and I dug my face deeper into the couch seat. While spanking, Schoonheid rubbed her thighs against my penis, making it harden in thirty seconds, then cum in another thirty. I apologized frantically, but she shushed me saying she wanted and caused it to happen. When it was over, Rietje helped me up, led me to a corner, and said. “You’ll stand in this corner for an hour, with your hands on your head. If you move, I’ll whack those cute little butt cheeks hard. Understood?”
“Yes ma’am,” I answered. She nodded and left the room, coming back in a minute and a half swishing something through the air. I didn’t dare turn around to see what. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t keep my arms up more than five minutes and broke position twelve times, and in turn she hit me with what I recognized as a teacher pointer stick twelve times in turn. “YYEEOOWW!” I screamed, no longer having anything to muffle my wails, and clenched my rear end and hopped sprung like a kangaroo. Schoonheid didn’t start over, but told me that the time I spent out of position didn’t count, so I had to stand longer than sixty minutes. The last blow struck the crease between my thighs and behind, making me pass out. I was awakened by feeling of cold cream on my ass. Looking back, I saw Rietje squirting a handful of Aloe Vera lotion onto both of my glutes. I shivered at the cold feeling, then pleasurably moaned as she rubbed it in.
“OOOOOOHHHH GGOODD! I-It f-feels SSSOOO g-good M-Ms. R-Rietje! P-Please d-don’t s-stop!”
“What ever you say cutie pie!”
She repeated this action ten times in 5 minutes. The Schoonheid took me back to her bedroom and had me look in her rectangular mirror against the wall.
“Your biscuits are a beautiful collage,” she said as I observed the twelve rod-shaped welts, spatula marks, and handprints jumbled together on my posterior.
Then told me to get in an all-fours position on the bed.
“I’m going to milk you and kiss your bum all better,” she explained and proceeded to literally kiss my ass seven times on each globe and twice on my anus. Then the beautiful spanker stroked my manhood slowly and made me “come” all over her mattress cover in 15 seconds. My orgasm lasted for 60 seconds under her ministrations, and I squealed like a pig. Then she said, “Go take a shower cutie pie. The Bathroom’s right next door.” I obeyed without hesitation, figuring out how it worked on my own, and enjoyed the hot water against my pulverized ass. Once I finished seven minutes later, I exited the shower and Schoonheid opened the door holding an orange towel. After drying me off, she lifted me up by my armpits, pushed my head into her bosom (she wasn’t wearing a bra and showed some cleavage), and caressed my butt.
“We should do this more often sweetie-pie. Come see me whenever you have the time, okay?” she asked in a mischievous tone. “Absolutely,” I answered, my voice muffled by her soft breasts.
“Oh and make sure to keep this a secret,” she said sternly.
“We’ll both be in huge trouble if you don’t.”
I looked up at her serious face and nodded.
“I know you didn’t enjoy the spanks, but what about the other stuff I did? Do you feel dirty or like I hurt or used you?”
“Of course not! That felt great!”
Smiling at my exclamation, Schoonheid peppered my face with kisses. I giggled and said, “Stop that tickles!”
Rietje gave me a wicked grin and I realized I misspoke. She whisked me to the bedroom and blew raspberries into my belly while I squealed. Schoonheid followed up by tickling my belly button, armpits, toes, feet, elbows, and knee pits. For my feet she used her fingers, teeth, and tongue, saying,
“MMMM, yummy, these are almost as tasty and delicious as your glutes!”
Six minutes later, I dressed and left her house.
31-35, M
