Living My Fantasy With Mahima Maam
- 3 years ago
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Yes Ma'am free porn video
"Why do you have to be such a bitch?!"
I regretted the words the moment they escaped my lips.
I watched as her eyes widened in shock, softened to a hurtful sadness, and then, as she scanned the food court to see so many people staring at us, hardened with an angry resolve. I had embarrassed her and she was pissed.
We were having lunch at the mall where we had spent most of the morning shopping for clothes for her. I had followed her around as she tried on various outfits in various department stores for hours and I had gradually become more and more impatient with the situation. The only reason I had come along was to buy a book that had just come out that I had been looking forward to, and we had yet to make our way to the bookstore. As we were eating lunch my irritability with her increased and we ended up arguing over something stupid -- I don't even remember what it was now. The argument ended abruptly with my sudden outburst of frustration. I had crossed a line and both of us knew it, and now she was irrevocably angry. She stood up without saying a word and walked away from the table, leaving her unfinished food and her bags behind, grabbing only her purse. I gathered up her things and followed after her. I had to run to catch up as she was on a mission.
"Honey, I'm sorry. Honey, please wait! I'm sorry..."
My pleading did no good. She ignored me as she walked back toward the last department store we had visited. She made her way to the kitchen section and stopped in front of a display of cooking utensils. I continued apologizing, but she said nothing. After a brief deliberation, she selected a set of wooden utensils that included two spoons and two spatulas, a slotted version and a solid version of both. She walked past me as though I wasn't even there and proceeded to the nearest clerk. The clerk rang up the set and stated the price.
"Pay her," she said, gesturing to the clerk.
Eager to ease my wife's anger, I quickly pulled out my wallet and paid for the item.
She then asked the clerk for a pair of scissors and used them to cut the plastic tie that held the utensils together. She selected the slotted spoon and had the clerk put the other three utensils in a bag. She then turned and walked away, leaving me to take the bag and the receipt.
"Have a great day, " the clerk said as I awkwardly rushed to catch up with my wife, my hands full of shopping bags.
She walked back through the food court toward the restrooms, carrying the slotted spoon in her clenched fist as I trailed behind her carrying literally everything else. I could feel everyone's eyes on us and I kept my head down as to avoid eye contact. I was beginning to understand where this was going...
She came to a stop in front of one of the two private family restrooms. The little indicator next to the handle said "Occupied" on both doors. We stood there side by side as people walked by, entering and exiting the men's and women's restrooms.
"I'm sorry..." I attempted again.
"I know," she said sternly, without looking at me.
After what felt like an eternity one of the doors opened and a young mother came out pushing a stroller, two small children tagging along behind her. She and my wife smiled at each other briefly as my wife walked toward the door. She held it open and motioned for me to go in. I obeyed.
When she had closed and locked the door behind us she opened the changing table that was mounted on the wall and told me to set her things there. When this was accomplished, she pointed at the handicap railing by the toilet.
"Pull down your pants and grab the rail."
I knew that resisting her would only make matters worse, so I obeyed, undoing my belt and my fly and pulling my pants down to my knees.
"Those, too," she said, referring to my underwear. I pulled my boxer briefs down as well and placed my hands on the handicap rail. She ordered me to take a few steps back so that my back was almost horizontal enough for my shirt to stay in place when she lifted it up, then had me spread my legs apart as far as my pants, which were now around my ankles, would allow. She observed me in silence for a moment, my bare ass exposed, my dick hanging limply in the cool air. I knew my balls were visible from behind.
She rubbed the cold wooden spoon against either cheek and ran the edge down my crack, pushing it against my anus. And then it began.
Two quick smacks to each cheek. My knees buckled.
"Stand up," she commanded.
She delivered about two dozen strokes in rapid succession, the sound echoing off the tile walls. I did not cry out, only grunting in pain, tears forming in my eyes. After the initial onslaught, she placed the handle of spoon vertically along my butt crack.
"Hold this."
I clenched my cheeks together, holding the spoon in place, never letting go of the railing, as she walked around and crouched down to my eye level.
"Why are you being punished?"
"I'm being punished because I embarrassed you in public."
This answer seemed to satisfy her and she smiled briefly for the first time since the whole ordeal began. She then returned to my backside, took the spoon and resumed the spanking.
I received another couple dozen hard strokes with the slotted spoon before she ordered me to stand up and face her. I turned to her, naked from the waist down, my butt burning red. I hung my head in shame, feeling like a little boy who had just been spanked by his mother. She lifted my chin with the spoon so that I was looking her in the eye.
"Don't ever do that to me again, do you understand?" she said.
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Alright, you can pull up your pants now. We're going home. I have three more of these to break in."
"Yes, Ma'am..."
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