Danny submits to all of Elizabeth demands and punishments, despite the endless spankings and his waning desire to be nursed by her any longer.
Things changed quickly after that first spanking (yes, there were more).
Elizabeth wasn’t playing around, she wouldn’t hold back and was relentless every time she spanked me. Each spanking was longer than the last and they were always terribly painful, leaving me bruised and sometimes bleeding. I don’t know if I was building calluses or muscle, but sometimes I wouldn’t bleed and it wasn’t because they were less severe spankings. I couldn’t believe people would spank children, but I had to remind myself they probably weren’t spanked anywhere near as much or as hard as I was.
The first time, leaving me in tears and sucking my thumb, worked well, and I made damn sure I was early or on time for every feeding after that. It was weird, I registered how well it worked on me and convinced myself that meant I must have deserved it. A belief I shared in common with Elizabeth as she had decided to spank me anytime I displeased her. She grew more strict and enforced more rules, so I ended up displeasing her often.
The second time she spanked me was for making a suckling sound only a few days later when she was on the phone while nursing me. That was my fault. She told me to stay silent, but I was hungry. The outcome was much the same, me sitting on my bruised bare bottom on the kitchen tile floor after the spanking of a lifetime, sobbing like a little child.
I distinctly remember the second spanking because she answered the phone in the middle of teaching me a lesson, it was my mother calling. Mom knew I was here during the evenings, she thought I was being tutored in business analysis by Elizabeth to help my career and called to check up on me.
“Yes, he’s here, June.” Elizabeth said over the phone as a hard smack came down on my bottom. “Oh that? That was just the TV. We are taking a break, this lesson is taking longer than expected.”
Elizabeth continued to spank by bottom repeatedly, while she talked on the phone to my mother. “Yes, I’m sorry he’s here so late, but he’s having a really hard time learning his lesson tonight and so I need to teach him more. Yes, I know how difficult he can be!”
The spanking was unbearable and I started crying. Elizabeth held one hand over the phone’s receiver and ordered me, “Put your thumb in your mouth!”
She continued spanking me hard. I didn’t know how long this was going to last and it had already been much longer than the first spanking.
“What’s that?” she said, back on the phone with Mom. “Oh, no, I said ‘Put your tongue in your mouth.’ Danny stuck his tongue out at me when I called him difficult. Don’t you worry, I’ll be sure to make sure he doesn’t do that again.”
Elizabeth wrapped up her conversation with my mother and sighed heavily.
“Danny, your mother doesn’t like it when you stick your tongue out at people.” she scolded me.
“I didn’t!” I pleaded, taking my thumb out of my mouth.
“Yes, but if she doesn’t like when you do it, that means you’ve done it before.” Elizabeth started spanking me furiously. “You don’t stick your tongue out at people!”
“I’m sorry!” was all I could think to say. Now I was getting spanked for something I didn’t do.
“We were almost done with this lesson but now you need to learn how to show people respect!” she yelled angrily. “Put your thumb back in your mouth, I know this is going to make you cry again.”
She was right. I cried much, much more that night. All for something stupid I never did.
I vowed I was done with my visits after that night, but again, I showed up early the next morning. I was very hungry, and ended up earning myself yet another spanking, even though my bum was still terribly bruised from the brutal punishment the night before.
I burped after she fed me breakfast and I guess it was close to her face. She used the hairbrush that time and I avoided sitting down anywhere for a week. Mom thought I was in a fight, even when I got home later that evening, since my eyes were still swollen so much from crying so hard. I considered going to the doctor, because I thought I might have needed stitches on my bottom.
The fourth time she spanked me? Hell if I know. I don’t remember, I couldn’t have been doing anything out of the ordinary. I was on my hands and knees scrubbing her kitchen floor when she came in from the other room, lifted me off the ground with almost one arm, while the other pulled my pants down, and I was over her thighs as she sat on the kitchen table chair, bare bottomed, screaming and crying.
“You never learn!” she screamed as she systematically came down in long strikes with her right hand. “I am going to start adding twenty spanks each time I need to teach you a lesson!”
I wasn’t exaggerating, each time was literally the hardest spanking of my lifetime.
I tried to call her bluff once. She was lying, it had to be way more than twenty. She was so strict and in love with the rules, I wanted to see if I could count the number of spanks of two consecutive lessons and see if there was actually a difference of twenty. It’d be a small victory, but at least it would be something to get her back with.
Futile.
We were at a point where if I didn’t keep my hands still, placed down beside my head during the spanking, she would hit my knuckles with a ruler for as many spanks as I was due. I needed my hands, I learned not to make her do that very quickly. Besides, if (when) I started crying, Elizabeth would make me put my thumb in my mouth.
She had become very good at spanking, and would sometimes use both hands alternating very quickly and still incredibly hard. She was giving me the ‘rollercoaster spanking’, as she called it, the time when I was trying to count and I couldn’t keep up. The amount of pain I was in, counting was hard enough.
I didn't know how to make the spankings stop but still keep the breastfeeding, and I needed to keep the breastfeeding, so I kept showing up everyday. I do know the spankings were getting longer. Much longer. The last time the sun was still up when we started, it must have been six. I remember being over her knee, crying with my thumb in my mouth of course, and staring out the window at the moon and stars before it ended.
One time I tried to get out of a spanking by floating the idea that I’d have to find someone else to feed off of. She made sure I knew that was out of the question by threatening to tell Mom all about our escapades, and then spanked me until both her hands were red and her arms got tired of swinging the hairbrush. I don’t think she was keeping count that time.
I started hating her. I didn’t know how to get out of this. I mentioned once that maybe it was time I grew up and learned to eat real food. She again threatened to tell Mom everything and pulled my head into her breast.
“I can feed you now or a firm spanking will be at hand and then we’ll try again after.” she said so matter-of-factly.
We’ll try again after. It sounded like it was a chore that she was responsible for.
“I won’t let you starve to death, dummy.” she smirked as she cuffed me over the head.
I obediently sucked the milk out from her nipple. I remembered how much I used to love nursing from her, now it just felt like an exercise and since my bottom was always being spanked, it always hurt. Even during the feedings all I could think about was how much my bum hurt. I used to comfort myself sucking my thumb by pretending it was her nipple, but now I started taming the feeling of embarrassment feeding off a breast as an adult by pretending her nipple was my thumb. Thumb sucking was still embarrassing, but it felt less humiliating than nursing.
The days she spanked me always felt the most confusing. She’d spank me and I’d still be in tears while paying her for the feeding, convinced I’d never come back again. I always did. The conflicting feeling of not wanting to return and always returning was compounded when one day I showed up and she had a ‘gift’ for me. Elizabeth handed me a brown box, when I opened it and pulled out the cloth contents, I stared in dread at the man sized onesie I held. Or should I say, the woman sized onesie. It was white and had pink shoulders and roughly patterned with rainbows, unicorns, and shooting stars, with a giant pair of pink hearts sewn over the chest.
“I’m sorry, Danny, but if you are going to act like a little baby, you’ll be treated like a little baby.” Elizabeth said pragmatically. She shrugged her shoulders and continued, “And if you are going to cry like a little girl, you will be treated like a little girl! So help me GOD, if I catch you not wearing this in my home!”
I assumed she would let me change from my real clothing into the onesie when I arrived, but a quick spanking as soon as I showed up at her front door in my jeans and t-shirt the next day, and I understood I would have to change before my arrival. I caught on quickly, and started wearing my onesie under my clothes everyday. When I showed up at Elizabeth house, I would quickly take off my regular clothes and hope to god she would answer the door and let me in before any neighbours saw me.
Again, the first time I showed up at her front door in my pink and white onesie, she gave me another spanking for being untidy, having my clothes bundled in my hand. I brought a bag the next day, but received a spanking for that too.
“A plastic bag, Danny?!” she screamed out during the spanking. “Little girls don’t carry around plastic bags, they carry around purses!”
I knew what she wanted me to do, I went to the nearest woman’s outlet store and bought what I thought was the manliest looking white purse. Of course it still looked terribly feminine, but at least I only had to carry it at Elizabeth’s home.
After about a week of wearing a onesie everyday, Elizabeth again randomly pulled me over her lap while I was dusting the coffee table.
“Typical filthy boy!” Elizabeth screamed after a very long spanking while I sucked on my thumb hard wondering what her problem was this time. “This onesie is disgusting. You need to have this dry cleaned professionally! And you can’t just wear the same onesie everyday!”
I had no idea where Elizabeth had found my current onesie, but I found a website online where I could order them and have them delivered. I didn’t want any human interaction buying these things, so that worked out well. They weren’t cheap, but I ordered a few. I made sure they were all clearly meant for girls, I knew otherwise would just earn me another spanking and I’d have to buy more after.
The dry cleaners was different. There was no way to drop them off and pick them up without avoiding human interaction. The man at the dry cleaners always scowled at me, avoided eye contact, and I could hear him muttering foul things under his breath when I was around.
My life had devolved to spending hours each day in a girls onesie, doing chores, or getting spanked. And in brief moments, nursing from a woman who was more like a wetnurse during this time than anything else.
Then one time I had the bright idea I just wouldn’t show up for dinner. I was so hungry I tried eating solid food to no avail. I thought of asking Mom if she could help, but as far as she knew I was eating solids now, and it had been months since she nursed me and I could tell by the size reduction in her breasts that she had stopped producing. So I went to bed hungry.
The next morning I woke up so hungry I thought I was dying. I knew I couldn’t skip breakfast, and again I threw up the food I tried downing. Elizabeth was right, I’d starve to death without her. Reluctantly, I made my way to her house, not knowing what punishment would await.
I was almost surprised that she let me inside.
“You must be very hungry?” she said, almost taunting me. “I don’t think I’m going to have enough milk to fill you and I had a lot of time by myself last night to think about things.”
She almost sounded hurt, was she upset that I hadn’t shown up because she liked the company? As far as I knew she didn’t really have any friends, and there weren’t any family photos of relatives in her home, other than her kids who she barely got to see. The things she did to me and made me do, maybe she was just desperate to fulfill her kinks and still had real emotions. I started feeling bad for her.
“We’re going to need to find something else to feed you with, and since you need a warm fluid coming out directly from a woman’s body, there is only one thing I can think of giving you now.” she stared at me almost waiting for me to answer.
I stopped feeling bad for her. She couldn’t have possibly been thinking of… No. No way. I have never had any desire or ever had any thoughts of that, even that first night I masturbated endlessly thinking of her doing terrible things to me. I had to have been wrong, that is just disgusting.
She rolled her eyes, and as was her favourite way to drag me around, grabbed and twisted my ear. I crawled beside her as fast as I could as we made our way down the hall, towards the bathroom. This couldn’t be happening!
I stopped in the hallway and sat on my bum. Elizabeth had kept walking forward fast and had such a grip on my ear I thought it might tear off and go with her. I didn’t care. This crazy bitch was not peeing in my mouth!
Elizabeth turned around to face me, her arms crossed and silent. She usually kept her hands on her hips when she was upset with me, I always found it daunting. Her standing there with her arms crossed was even scarier.
There I sat on the floor, on my hands, knees, and bum, like a dog when it sits. I didn’t have time to think about what she may do to me, her leg pulled back and kicked me so quickly, I didn’t fully realize she had kicked me in the balls until I was lying on my side, convulsing as I clutched my privates.
“If you think your hands are going to protect you, you have another thing coming, mister.” she said, crossing her arms again. “Are you going to come with me now?”
I wasn’t about to get kicked in the balls again, so with all my strength I rolled back onto my hands and knees and crawled beside her. She clenched my ear tightly again, and we continued on our way to the bathroom.
“In the bathtub.” she ordered me once we arrived. “Lie down on your back, head under the faucet.”
I didn’t know what to do, I was dying from hunger, I didn’t want her to kick me again, and if I just left, she’d tell Mom about this and then I’d be in real shit.
“You’ll feed me normally after?” I asked timidly.
“Oh, Danny. After this you are going to be so very full!” she giggled.
Now what the fuck was the point of this?! Still, nothing changed, I couldn’t leave, I couldn’t stay and not obey. I started crawling into the tub.
“Hurry up!” she barked.
I rolled into the bathtub and lay on my back.
“Close your eyes and open your mouth.” she said softly.
I didn’t know what else to do, I closed my eyes and opened my mouth. Maybe she just wanted to teach me a lesson and submitting was all I needed to do. I heard some shuffling of clothes and then I could feel her stepping into the tub, I could feel her feet beside my face. Okay, maybe she was just trying to make sure I knew she was serious and would do it next time.
I could hear her moving, and even though my eyes were closed, I could tell she was crouching over me. I could smell something sour and fishy. I had always heard stories that vaginas could smell bad, but this was downright foul. I nearly gagged just from the smell, she must never clean this thing! This had to be the farthest she was going to take this, what kind of freak would pee in someone’s mouth?! I thought I was right, she was just trying to scare me, because I lay there in silence with my mouth open for almost another minute.
Then instantly, something warm and salty splashed into my mouth. It was horrid.
I instantly choked and shook my head to move out of her stream, Elizabeth grabbed me by the hair, slapped me in the face hard and yelled “No! Open your mouth!”
I couldn’t. She slapped me again, and again, and I finally opened my mouth. A mouthful of pee squirted into my mouth immediately and stopped. I stayed still and kept my mouth open, but I couldn’t help but cough it out.
“Swallow it!” she commanded, she was screaming now.
I had coughed most of what was in my mouth out, but I didn’t want her to slap me again so I tried swallowing. It was the most disgusting thing I had ever tasted, though I hadn’t really tasted much aside from breastmilk and none of it tasted good either. This was different. I continued to gag and started dry heaving.
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.” she sighed. “I'm giving you a mouthful at a time. One squirt, one quick swallow.”
I’ll give her this, the lady knew how to control her bladder. She squirted just a mouthful into my mouth, I gagged and coughed it out again. This time she punched me, a hard right hook above and to the side of my eye. I couldn’t believe this was happening, I didn’t know how to get out or make it stop, so I opened my mouth again.
Another mouthful of piss splashed inside and this time I was able to swallow it quickly. A second mouthful immediately filled me and I swallowed that too. I gasped for air.
“Good boy!” she exclaimed with a huge horse smile as another mouthful filled me. I swallowed, but this time the piss kept flowing. She screamed, “Keep swallowing!”
I did my best to do as she commanded but it was too much at once, most of it overflowed and poured down every direction over my face and into my hair. The pee started flowing over my nose, to my eyes, to my forehead and hair, then back over my chin and neck. I swear, Elizabeth was aiming her piss all over my face!
The stream died down to a trickle and she squirted the final drops onto my chest, over the pink hearts on my onesie.
“Poor performance, Danny.” she said. Even though my eyes were still closed I could picture her with her hands on her waist, shaking her head. “I wish I had more to train you with but we’ll just have to wait until next time.”
Oh no! Spankings were one thing, but I was never going to do this again. I would do every little thing she wanted, perfectly, to make sure of that!
The faucet turned on and cold water washed over my head. I was partly thankful that it washed away the piss, but it was terribly cold and the pressure was heavy on my face. I couldn’t breathe and felt I was choking, but I think I heard Elizabeth say something about staying still, it was hard to hear. I could make out she was washing her feet under the tap, then the water stopped and she stepped out.
My onesie was completely drenched, and not all in water.
“Take a shower with your onesie on.” Elizabeth ordered me. “After you wring it out you can throw it in the garbage. I will send you the website so you can buy another one because that one is ruined now. See what you made me do!”
Another slap came across my piss covered cheek.
“After you clean up,” Elizabeth continued, “I do not want you touching my towels. You go stand in the backyard under the maple tree, naked, until you dry. Then you can come in and I will feed you.”
I guess she realized I hadn’t drunk enough of her pee and was still hungry. I did everything as I was told. I was thankful her backyard had a lot of trees and was very private. Elizabeth washed her hands and left the bathroom. I finally opened my eyes and turned on the shower.
Alone in the shower, I fell to my knees and started crying.
Just my luck, the one lady I found that is producing breast milk and let an adult pay her to nurse him turns out to be crazy.