I obviously don’t share it with anyone, but I was breastfed well into adulthood. I know people might think it wasn’t my fault and instead blame my parents, but truthfully, I did some pretty stupid shit to keep it up.
Mom put her foot down and stopped nursing me as soon as I was eighteen, she said only boys get nursed and I was a man now. But after a lifetime of breastmilk being the only sustenance I knew, it was all I craved, it was all my body would accept. I found swallowing food difficult, and even when I finally got something down, my body would reject it and throw it back up.
The first month being off breastmilk so suddenly was unbearable. Naturally, I did the only sane thing anyone in my shoes would have done: found another woman that was nursing and paid her to feed me.
She wasn’t the crazy cat lady. She had zero cats and two kids instead, a newborn and a ten year-old (neither I believe were planned). Everything else screamed crazy cat lady. Despite her probably being in her mid-thirties at the time, her house looked like a grannies home. Brown corduroy couches, pink throw pillows with gold tassels on it. All of it.
Her clothing might have been hand-me-downs from her mother. She always wore pantyhose and a thick, long skirt that came down below her knees. A blouse, with either a shawl or some sort of overshirt or jacket was all I ever saw her wear. And not fashionable shirts and coats, they were corduroys, paisley’s, and polka dots, like from the 1970’s and 80’s.
She wasn’t ugly or anything of the sort. She just did everything wrong if she was trying to look pretty. She had auburn, almost red, hair that she kept relatively short, above the shoulders, and probably never really maintained, it was always curling all over the place. She wore these large, thick, aviator shaped glasses, and had a horse's mouth with large yellowing teeth.
Even her name sounded old timey, like a school librarian: Elizabeth. Not Liz, or Lisa, or even Beth. Elizabeth.
Honestly though, I think I liked her.
She lived just down the street and was friends with my mom. Despite being a single mom of two kids, Elizabeth was getting her MBA and desperate for cash. Between her day job and night schooling, her kids were rarely around, I think they spent most of their time at the grandparents, daycare, and babysitters, which didn’t help her cash situation.
I knew what I was asking her could get me in real shit, I didn’t want word of my breastfeeding getting out and Mom always kept it secret. Mom also made it clear what would happen to me if I tried exactly something like this, she knew how I thought.
So we shared a mutual desire to keep things secret. She was getting her MBA and I was trying to start a career in business administration, so I told Mom that Elizabeth was tutoring me. The story fit, Mom knew Elizabeth needed cash and was happy I was getting special lessons. I thought I was in the clear and had outsmarted my mother.
I had no idea what I was in for. For the rest of my damn life.
Everything started off so well. Elizabeth had originally proposed bottling her milk for me to drink on my own, like she was already doing with her baby. After pleading and explaining that I just wasn’t capable of consuming anything that didn’t come directly from a nipple (and offering to pay her more), we agreed to three feedings a day. Not a lot, I know, but I’ve always been pretty small and slim, and she actually had pretty large breasts that sure produced.
Despite having large breasts, that was probably the only attractive thing about her. I use the word ‘attractive’ generously. They were veiny, and she had huge, unsymmetrical, dark areolas. Her nipples would inflate incredibly when she was feeding, to the size of a child's thumb. I was undecided on whether that was attractive or not, but I loved it.
Breasts weren’t the only large part of her. Everything was large. Large hips. Large ass. Large hands and feet. Her hair always curling uncontrollably made her head look large and she had some extra pounds around the arms and legs. Not that she was terribly large or overweight, just big-boned I guess, most of it was probably muscle from carrying children around. She was a good half a foot taller than me, too.
She outsized me terribly. I wasn’t intimidated by her at all though, she was still just a sweet lady and even with my petite size I was sure I could overpower her if ever needed. And really, why would I ever need to?
Overall, the way she was shaped, it sounds so mean, but I couldn’t help but be reminded of Big Bird. Contrary to that, she was sexy in her own way. Everything was curved and shaped well. She had a sweet voice and was oddly playful.
We would talk, turned out we liked similar shows and agreed on things like politics and religion. I know you might find it hard to understand in this situation, but I felt we were growing into friends. Or maybe even something else, I don’t know. I needed the breastmilk to survive, but if I’m being completely honest, I got a thrill from nursing. I got to suck on huge tits all throughout the day, everyday. Maybe Elizabeth secretly enjoyed it too and our sessions were more like a private fetish between lovers than like a baby being fed.
We started very mechanical in our process: she would lay a towel down over her lap for me to rest my head on, ask me to keep my eyes closed, and I’d do my business. Elizabeth would pinch her nipple into my mouth and I would latch on greedily. Her nipple would inflate heavily and I could suck out a mouthful at a time. Once her first large breast was empty she would switch to her other breast and I would drain that one too. Nursing from Elizabeth’s large breasts was much different than nursing with Mom. Milk would gush out of her puffy nipples in such volume, it would trickle out of my mouth and I frequently made a mess. Elizabeth was okay with letting me lap it up afterwards before wiping my face with the towel.
After some time as we got more comfortable with each other, she would put her arm around me occasionally, even run her fingers through my hair. I enjoyed it, our sessions didn’t last more than ten minutes but I could have spent an eternity on her lap sucking on her breasts, even if there wasn’t any milk coming out. I had grown to adore how large her nipples would get while feeding me. Nursing with Elizabeth was very enjoyable, Mom would always be reading a book or watching TV and not paying me much attention, but Elizabeth was always affectionate.
At least she was for a while when we started. She seemed to grow more motherly, and in the odd times I’d be around when her oldest child was, I realized the way she talked to me was very similar. Instructive. Encouraging. Correcting. Commanding.
I might have taken the first step in ruining everything. I wasn’t fond of how motherly she started being with me. Afterall, I was a grown man now and I thought we were developing some sort of special bond sharing a secret fetish together. I thought I just had to man up and take the next step in moving to the next level in our relationship, like how sometimes you just have to kiss someone for the first time.
During a nursing session, while I was sucking on her inflated nipple, I started taking slower longer sucks. Usually I sucked with very systematic pumping that would make a loud smacking sound. Elizabeth didn’t react to this change of pace, and so I tried what I had longed to do since we started: I used my tongue. I circled around her huge, puffy nipple with my tongue, it was the most incredible feeling of my life.
“What are you doing?!” Elizabeth exclaimed, immediately pulling her tit out of my mouth. “Oh my god! What do you think you are doing?”
She pulled her shirt up, covering her breast and I noticed how red in the face she was.
“Get off me!” she almost giggled, giving me a quick spank on my bottom.
I was glad to see she was more embarrassed than upset, but she sent me home and told me not to ever try any ‘funny business’ ever again. Between licking her nipple and her spanking my bottom, I left her house with the hardest erection of my life, and I think she noticed.
I had sent a strong message of where I wanted our relationship to go and it was time to find out if Elizabeth would reciprocate, but after that was when she started getting strict and upset with me when I did something that upset her. The first few times I was late didn’t seem to bother her, but after a few weeks she would give me chores to do as punishment, like vacuum or the dishes. I was late often, I still had my own chores at home to do and I had a job now.
Eventually she started sending me into the corner to stand quietly facing the wall. I would play along. It was silly. She would let out her distinctive cackle when she told me to go to the corner and I would shrug and smile as I obliged.
Sometimes she would give me a hard spank on the bottom as I made my way to the corner. It didn’t hurt, it excited me. Again, I thought it was something she didn’t do with anyone but me, another special kink that we would share in private. Maybe I had just made my move too soon when I used my tongue on her breast, she just wanted to move slowly and play around more first.
At least I thought we were just playing around, until one day when she must have been having a bad day and under a lot of stress. Elizabeth was upset from the moment I showed up, I wasn’t even that late. I get nervous around people that are upset, especially when they are bigger than me. I was always bullied throughout childhood so I was always fearful of being hit. Which is exactly what happened.
I was rambling out excuses for why I was late again. Elizabeth just stood there with a stern face and her hands on her hips, as I kept babbling and started stumbling through my words when I realized she was genuinely angry. She threw her arms in the air, shook her head and yelled “Enough!”, slapping me right in the face.
I hadn’t been slapped like that in years, maybe even ever. Mom always had a temper, but she stopped slapping my face when I reached my teens and she never hit me anywhere near that hard. I should have ended things right there. I could have stopped everything. I should have known right from that moment what I was getting myself into, but I thought slapping my face was one of her kinks too, and if this was something she wanted, I’d let her have it if it meant getting what I wanted.
In truth, by the time she slapped my face that first time, I think I might already have fallen in love with her.
Elizabeth apologized shortly after, said she was having a bad day and she never wants to hit me like that again. I believed her. I needed the feedings, and my heart was in this now. She still affirmed that the next time I was late I would receive a more ‘appropriate’ punishment, since the corner wasn’t working.
That night I kept thinking about when she slapped me, it would instantly excite me and make me hard. I pondered what kind of punishment she might give me if I was late again, and as strange as it sounds, I got this weird feeling thinking about it - I wanted to find out. I spent the night masturbating to all sorts of crazy things that might happen when she punished me.
After I rubbed one out, the feelings would subside and I’d tell myself to knock it off. Nothing like that would ever happen, she wasn’t some sort of freak. When I thought of her doing the things I had just masturbated to, I got fearful and disgusted with myself, I didn’t actually want them to happen. Then I would seriously consider what would actually happen if I was late again and if I was wrong about everything I thought she felt towards me.
It didn’t matter how I felt about anything, I found out what Elizabeth felt was an ‘appropriate’ punishment pretty soon.
I remember entering her home late again, she was sitting on her couch and didn’t greet me, smile or respond to my discourse. After a minute of standing in the house entrance in awkward silence, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
“Do you think I have all the time in the day to sit around and wait for you?” she asked.
“I’m sorry-” I wanted to explain she doesn’t need to sit around and wait for me but she cut me off.
“If you were sorry you wouldn’t be late.” she said calmly and patiently.
“It’s only a few-” again, I wanted to explain it was only a few minutes but again she cut me off.
“So if you’re only wasting some of my time and not a lot of my time, it’s okay?” she asked honestly.
“I just have so much-” I wanted to explain I have commitments, I have a job, but she cut me off.
“Poor planning?” she shouted this time. She stood up and shouted again, “Lazy planning, Daniel!”
She used my full name. She’d never before used my full name.
“I don’t know what to do with you! The corner doesn’t work with you! A slap in the face doesn’t work with you! How much more do I need to try?” she was actually fuming now.
“It’s not that big a deal!” I finally got a sentence out. The wrong thing to say, that might have pushed her over the edge.
“Not that big a deal?!” she screamed as she stepped right in front of me with her finger pointing in my face. “Is that your reason?! I don’t want to hear any more excuses. I don’t want to hear another word out of you!”
My heart was racing, I couldn’t believe how upset she was. Elizabeth was red in the cheeks and frowning deeply, I thought she might hit me again, and given how angry she was she might knock me unconscious, or worse. If this was her kink, maybe she just wanted to beat the shit out of me. I started fearing what I might have got myself into.
Instead, Elizabeth turned around and sat back down on the couch. I looked to the door, part of me just wanted to make a run for it, but then my stupid penis started doing the thinking and I got excited thinking exactly what I fantasized about might just happen. She was sitting on the couch, and I remembered all those short, quick spanks to my bottom...
A few more awkward minutes of silence and she seemed to have calmed herself.
“Should we just stop this?” she said back in her calm and patient tone.
“No!” I pleaded. “I’m sorry I’m always late, I understand why you are upset.”
She let out her trademark cackle. “I’m glad you understand, that makes a world of a difference. You know, my little Daniel,” her ten year-old son shared the same name as me, except he went by Dan or Daniel and I went by the more juvenile Danny, “I used to put him in the corner and it would work. He’s a good boy. Good boys get good boy punishments. Maybe you just need something severe.”
“Like what?” I hesitated to ask.
“Well...” she almost hesitated too. I sat beside her to make her feel at ease and assert the privacy held between us. “You’re a different boy, Danny. Your brain works in childhood states through certain situations.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” she said as I frowned when she said this. Elizabeth continued, “You need to feed like a baby, you need to be punished like a child. I tried the corner with you but maybe you need the severe punishment very bad boys receive. I don’t like the idea of suggesting this, but you might just need a good spanking to teach you a lesson.”
Yes! This was the moment I had been waiting for! I wanted to see what she was going to do and I was hoping it would be a spanking. My heart thumped heavily in my chest, I was so excited. Something just thrilled me about having her hands on a private area. I always loved bums and the sound they make when smacked thrilled me, even if it was going to be my bum. I also longed to be in any kind of embrace with a stronger woman in control, especially on their laps, it was probably why I loved nursing so much.
“Okay...” I slowly breathed out. I didn’t want to seem excited, but I think I might have smirked a little. I tried to conceal it as a show of brushing the situation off and thinking it was silly.
Elizabeth’s face was as firm as ever, she steadily commanded “Over my knee. Drop your pants.”
This was so weird, but I did as I was told. I had left my underwear on.
“No, no, no. The underwear too.” she pressed.
I tried not to seem too excited as I whipped my underwear down in a hurry. I tried to conceal myself behind my hands, I was erect and didn’t want her to see it. I rushed to turn and lay my front over her thighs so fast I nearly hopped on her. I had never actually been spanked before, Mom always just went for my face.
My erection was pressing into her thigh, she had to have felt that and I started feeling embarrassed. I didn’t have time to think about it though, her hand came down and it was not at all what I expected. It made a large smacking sound that should have thrilled me, but it hurt like hell and that was all I could think about. I clenched my buttcheeks and she immediately grabbed and twisted my ear.
“No! You keep your bum out!” she shouted.
Holy shit! That really hurt, what was she doing?! I wanted her to let go of my ear, so I swallowed hard and relaxed my butt. A second hard smack came down on my bum immediately. This time I bit my lip and was able to stop myself from clenching. She kept coming down hard and fast on my butt.
During the first few spanks that hit my bottom hard, I thought I just needed to build a tolerance or numbness, but the pain kept increasing. Each spank hurt more than the last one. I felt like I was being burned alive from my bottom. I started whimpering and realized my erection had completely faded, there wasn’t anything pleasing about this. I was suddenly very aware and convinced that I was getting spanked as a naughty child, not as some fetish with a lover.
I couldn’t take anymore, I screamed aloud and tried to roll off her lap, but she caught me with her arms and hoisted me over her left thigh while she wrapped her legs around my legs. With her left hand, she firmly held my right wrist to my hip and resumed spanking me hard over and over. All the while I screamed. This was not at all what I thought it would be like. Tears started streaming down my face.
“Stop!” I could barely muster out. I screamed, “Please!”
A quick “Shh!” was all she responded with and continued spanking my bottom hard.
I had had enough of this. I squirmed my body, jerking on my arms, but I was held firmly in place. I couldn’t budge an inch anywhere and helplessly laid there while she held me down and ruthlessly spanked me. How was she so much stronger than me?
She struck hard and fast, there was no letting up, no breaks, not even brief pauses. She would focus on one cheek for a while and then switch to the other, then she would switch cheeks with every spank before focusing on a single one again. After a while, I don’t know how long, she stopped. I was able to turn my head and look behind to see her, she was waving her hand and blowing on it. I could see it was beet red. Thank god, she must have been done.
Instead, she switched the hand holding my right wrist, gripping it now with her beet red right hand, and began spanking me with fresh vigor with her left hand. Each spank reverberated loudly throughout the room and I didn’t feel any excitement from it as I had when I dreamed about it. I just found it deafening and humiliating.
I had to do something to stop this. My right arm was incapacitated as she held it down with her right hand, but my left arm was relatively free, it was just behind her and squished into the couch. It was silly and insignificant, but I was able to twist it enough so that I could pinch her on the side of the bum.
Wrong move.
First, she stopped spanking me, so I was successful there, but she grabbed my left hand, easily overpowering me and bending my arm to put my fingers in her mouth. She bit down hard. I wasn’t even able to scream, I was so out of breath and in so much pain. My mouth just gaped open silently as drool dripped out. She didn’t let go, she almost started chewing on my fingers as she continued spanking me for god knows how long.
I could smell her sweat.
What was happening?! This wasn’t playful, this wasn’t silly, I don’t think this was even legal! I think if I explained this to the police they’d arrest her. I realized that was my only option, without thinking I cried out for help.
“Somebody! Please! Help me!” I screamed.
She stopped spanking me, spat out my ruined hand, now entirely covered in large teeth marks and bleeding, and cackled, “Oh Danny, if anyone can hear you now they can hear what else is happening and know you're just being a disobedient little boy.”
Elizabeth started spanking me at a super speed, it sounded like a bicycle with cards in the wheels.
“Go on!” she screamed excitedly. “Cry for more help, see what happens!”
I didn’t want to upset her further so I kept my mouth shut as she pillaged my rear end.
Elizabeth slowed her rhythm down and started lifting her hand high in the air before coming down harder than she had yet to hit me. She continued this way, making a grunting sound like a tennis player each time she struck me with these power spanks. Each time more tears gushed out of my eyes and I screamed so loud I worried Mom would hear me down the street.
I didn’t know if it was possible to be spanked to death, or to spank someone enough to swell the skin to break and bleed, but I found out the latter was indeed possible.
“You’re bleeding, Danny.” she said when she stopped spanking me.
Bleeding didn’t sound ideal but at least she was done spanking me. As soon as she let go of my wrist I started rubbing my sorely beaten bottom. Sure enough I could feel blood on my fingers from my right buttcheek.
“Yes, right there. Go to the bathroom and bring me the bandages.” she ordered.
I could barely walk and each step I took hurt, but I made it to the bathroom and came back with the bandages that I handed to her. She looked at me, pointing down on her lap, with a look of impatient surprise on her face at me not knowing to get back into position. I guess she was going to put the bandages on me, it would probably be easier than me trying to apply them myself.
I lay over her lap, sobbing, while she put bandages over my bleeding bottom.
“Shh!” she ordered me silent again but I couldn’t stop crying. She impatiently added, “Okay, Danny, if you aren’t going to be quiet and keep crying like a little baby, you are going to lay there like a little baby. Put your thumb in your mouth.”
Was she serious? I didn’t want her to get more upset and start spanking me again, so I obediently put my right thumb in my mouth. For what it’s worth, even though I was still crying, it did make me cry quietly. My thumb in my mouth reminded me of Elizabeth’s large nipples when she fed me. I tried closing my eyes and pretended I was sucking on one of her large nipples, it was calming.
Elizabeth finished triaging my bottom, I assumed she would let me go now, but I stayed still and waited for her instruction. It wasn’t until this moment that I realized my bare bottom was staring her in the face and that was embarrassing enough to be a punishment of its own. There was nothing sexy or pleasurable about this, and I just felt shame exposed over her lap like this. My bottom had to be purple by now, if there was any part of her that enjoyed this, she must have been quite satisfied with herself.
“Well, Danny, you brought me the bandages promptly and you put your thumb in your mouth like a good little boy quickly, so I would say the spanking has been effective.” she said thoughtfully. Adding with a smile, “I will be sure to utilize this method on you going forward.”
Another spanking?! Hell no! Never again! I tried to speak, forgetting my thumb was in my mouth and just made a mumbling sound.
“Take your thumb out of your mouth, dum-dum!” Elizabeth cackled out.
“No, please! I’ll be a good boy, I swear!” I helplessly pleaded. I don’t know why I talked like that, I just wanted to please her so she wouldn’t spank my bottom again, so I played her game and used her language. Too late. A hard spank came down on my bandaged bottom.
“That’s already a lie!” she yelled, her smile gone and anger resumed. “You pinched me even during your spanking. Don’t think I’d forgotten about that!”
She spanked me three more times using her long strided power strikes. These were the most painful of the night. Having that moment for my bum to breathe, and the bleeding to stop, healed my wounds just enough so that each new spank was a fresh awakening.
Elizabeth began spanking me uncontrollably in a fit of rage.
“And of all places, Daniel!” she growled out, grim faced.
The pain was extraordinary, I started crying again. I didn’t know what else to do, I put my thumb back in my mouth. I tried pretending I was feeding again, but the flurry of spanks were too unbearable. I just lay there sobbing, sucking on my thumb, and very aware it was just my thumb I was sucking on.
I lost track of time, but my thumb felt spongy in my mouth. Elizabeth was tired, she weazed out giving me the last few slow, long strided strikes on my battered bottom. After she had finally stopped, she pushed me off her lap onto the floor. I had no strength left, any movement caused me pain so I just lay there sobbing, my thumb still in my mouth. She stood up and grabbed my ear again, twisting tightly, this time dragging me as I quickly crawled beside her on our way to the tile floored kitchen.
“Sit! On your bum.” She jerked my knees into my chest as I sat with my bum on the floor. She then pulled my arms so they wrapped around my legs and I sat there in the fetal position, it amplified the pain I was feeling. Tears continued to pour down my cheeks.
I can’t remember the last time I cried like this. I was angry at myself for crying and even more upset with myself for thinking I wanted this. I started wailing out loudly like a little child.
“Enough!” she barked as she slapped me in the face. “Put your thumb back in your mouth.”
I shut myself up with my thumb and tried to sit quietly, but I was in so much pain and so humiliated, I continued sobbing.
“I want you to stay there until I say you can move. You will go to bed tonight without dinner and, so help me god, if you are late again tomorrow morning for breakfast, I am going to use the hairbrush on you.”
For the first time ever, I was early the next morning.
