Breakfast for a boy.

[Kitten21]

There was once was a man. A grown man. A man in his forties. A very tall handsome man. That had a secret. Inside, the only side that mattered, he was a little boy. Sometimes he was eight. Sometimes he felt ALMOST eight. Sometimes he may have been eleven and close to puberty with feelings and hormones rushing through him. Sometimes he felt maybe seventeen, kinda sorta grown up but not quite. And sometimes when he was outside away from his lover and his mommy he started to feel big, he started to feel grown-up, he’d think he knew everything and he’d think he had all the answers. But his Mommy could see that in his eyes a mile away and she would immediately remind him in a word or gesture who the big person was and who the little one was while he blushed and squirmed.

Today the boy, who many called coddled and spoiled was sitting at the kitchen island a lot happy and a little mad. Happy because Mommy had made his absolute favorite thing for dinner:BREAKFAST! He was eating a huge buttery, syrupy waffle with a crispy piece of ham. And he could even have another one if he wanted!

“Richard, if you keep whining I’ll happily give you something to whine about.”

Mad because he was eating his delicious dinner on a very sore, bright red heiney. And his mommy was making him sit down a very hard uncomfortable wooden stool to remind him he had been naughty and sassy. So he squirmed. And he pouted. And he shifted. And he mumbled.
Thinking of the indignity of having been spanked right in the broad open daylight bent over the kitchen island. He didn’t even know why he came in the darn kitchen! It was full of the devil’s implements. Spoons and spatulas and cutting boards that seemed to be an awful lot like paddles. Mommy also kept a good supply of six or seven Fleet enemas under the sink in case he was acting up or rambunctious. Then next thing you know bent over, everything at his knees while Mommy slipped the mean nozzle right into his bottom and gave him an enema to settle him down! And if he squirmed and protested too much he’d get another one. Then he’d have to stand there with a full belly, pants at his ankles, ABSOLUTELY everything showing until Mommy let him use the potty. And that was forever in little boy time.

So he ate his waffle. And he tried so very hard not to complain. But his bottom hurt! And he needed his pants! And his little pee pee was so hard it hurt. (Only Mommy let a little boy orgasm. He couldn’t ever touch himself. That meant the mean ole strap.). But Mommy could see that look on his face. That “my-bottom really-hurts- but-I can’t-help-myself” look.

She came over and put a finger under his chin and looked into her man-childs eyes.”LIttle one, Finish your dinner and go get your pajamas on. Mommy is spanking you and putting that naughty bottom to bed. Before you get in over your head”

Richard ate his waffle very slowly.

How to make breakfast for a naughty boy (At night):

Mix ¾ of a cup of flour in a big bowl with ¼ cup of cornstarch, a ½ tsp. of baking soda, 2 tsp. sugar, a tsp of really good cinamon and a little more than a pinch of salt. Whisk it all up. Add a cup of buttermilk ( sometimes Mommy adds a tbsp. of vinegar to regular ole milk if there’s no buttermilk around). Throw in an egg and ⅓ of a cup of melted butter. Add a tsp of vanilla extract. The good stuff. Little boys hate that imitation stuff. Mommy gets hers from a place called MADAGASCAR and there’s real bourbon in it. Mix it all together real good and let it sit on the counter for 45 minutes or so.

This is the bad part. That’s plenty of time for a little boy to get his straight back chair and his bad boy hairbrush for some over the knee time. Then it’s a half hour of “Please, Mommy” and “I’m sorry, Mommy” with lots of kicking and squirming and stuff.

Then it’s off to that corner, the one by the window where everyone can see a swollen bruised bottom.

Then Mommy plugs in the waffle iron and heats up a skillet. She likes cast iron. Puts good stuff in a boy’s bones. She whips up a concoction of ¼ cu maple syrup and a tbs. of cider vinegar and big tbs. of really good mustard. Then throw a ham steak in the skillet until all the watery junk comes out. Dump it and coat up that steak on both sides.

<lots of bottom rubbing>

<sniffing>

“MOMMY! CAN I COME OUT???!!!”

Cook that ham until it’s crispy and delicious. Pour half a cup of batter into heated waffle iron.
When light goes out on iron you can plate it all up. You can serve with fruit if you can get your boy to eat anything healthy.

Call little boy from corner. Kiss his nose, rub his little sore heiney and feed him all he wants!

[jj7]

God I love that story! Wonderful!

[Often123]

Quite a story. Not just the spanking, either, but the attitude... Cooking? Ah, cast iron. It's nice to see not everyone has given up on it.

[craig112]

kitten why can't I have a spanking like this