Spanked in the Restaurant

Spanked in the Restaurant Spanked in the Restaurant

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


When I misbehave, Daddy is ready and willing to punish me on the spot -- no matter where we are, or how many people are watching.


When I misbehave, Daddy is ready and willing to punish me on the spot -- no matter where we are, or how many people are watching.


Submitted: August 09, 2015

A A A | A A A


Submitted: August 09, 2015



Yesterday, me and Daddy were at a restaurant. I'd been acting like a brat for most of the day, and Daddy had already pulled me aside once to tell me that if I kept it up, I would be getting a spanking. That got the point across, and for a while I was good.

But now, I was acting up again. I knew I was testing Daddy's patience as I complained about the food, complained about the location, and pretty much complained about everything else -- but I couldn't help myself. I was just in a complaining mood.

But when I was rude to the waitress, that was the last straw. Daddy stood up, grabbing me by the wrist, and said, “That's it, you're getting a spanking.”

“Daddy!” I whined, as he pulled me in the direction of the men's room. “Not now, in public!”

“Yes, now,” he said firmly, still tugging me along. “You're acting like a naughty little boy, so I'm going to punish you like one. And if anyone happens to be in there with us, I guess they'll just see you're bad little bottom getting spanked.”

I felt my cheeks redden at the thought, and jerked back: “No!

Daddy's a lot stronger than me, but I guess he wasn't expecting me to pull so hard -- he tripped, and almost fell over before catching himself on a table.


“I-I'm sorry, Daddy,” I whispered, looking at my feet. “I didn't mean to--”

“That's it.” Daddy took my hand again, a little more roughly, and marched me back to our table. “If you're going to act like an infant, I'm going to spank you like one -- lay down on the table.”

“D-Daddy?” My already red face turned flaming as I realised that he was going to spank me in front of everyone in the restaurant -- and in the diaper position, from the sounds of it. I started to back away. “Daddy, no, I'm sorry, I'll be good, just -- ”

“You had your chance to be good,” he said, grabbing my wrist again. “But you were bad and now you're going to get spanked -- on your bare bottom, in front of everyone.”

“But -- ”

Before I could say anything else, Daddy already had my pants and underwear down, and sat me on the table. By now, people were starting to stare.

“Daddy,” I pleaded. “Please -- ”

“That's enough,” he ordered. “Now lay back, and lift up your legs.”

I knew I had no choice but to obey. I did as he said, lying back like a baby about to have its diaper changed.

Using his left hand to hold my legs up, Daddy landed a sharp spank on my bottom with his right. I yelped, as much from surprise as pain, and put my hands over my eyes.

But Daddy pulled my hands away and pointed to my crotch. “Hold onto your balls and cock,” he reminded me sternly. “Unless you want them flopping out and getting spanked too.”

Red-faced, I put my hands over my very much exposed cock, trying to hide it from view. I could hear titters and whispers from the tables around us, and knew that these people were about to be in for quite a show.

With that, Daddy started to spank me. Spank, spank, spank, his hard hand came down again and again on my bare bottom, already starting to turn pink, and then red. He kept spanking me, and the titters turned into outright laughter.

I wished I hadn't been so bad.

Daddy kept spanking. I knew he would keep it up until he thought I'd really learned my lesson -- and as naughty as I had been, my bottom was in for a lot of punishment. Very, very public punishment.

“Are you learning your lesson yet?” Daddy asked me, still spanking my poor bottom.

“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered.

“Louder,” he said, landing an extra hard spank on my left cheek. “So that all these people that you've inconvenienced with you naughtiness can hear how sorry you are.”

“I'm sorry, Daddy,” I said, a little louder.

“Why are you sorry?” he asked.

Spank, spank, spank.

“I'm sorry I acted like a brat, Daddy,” I said. “I'm sorry I was so bad -- please, Daddy, I've learned my lesson, you don't have to spank me anymore.”

“I'll be the judge of that,” he replied, spanking away.

My bottom was starting to feel very sore, partly just because Daddy was spanking me so hard. I knew I'd been really bad, and he was very, very annoyed with me.

I closed my eyes, trying not to whimper and cause any more of a scene than I already was.

But after I moment, I felt something move in my hand -- oh, no, I had a hard-on! Daddy knew that spanking always turned me on, even if we were in public . . .

I moved my hands a little farther down, trying to hide my stiff, throbbing cock. Maybe if Daddy finished soon, I could pull my pants up quickly and no one would notice . . .

But Daddy kept spanking, each smack to my tender bottom sending a shock of pain and pleasure directly to my cock. After a few more moments, I felt my hand moving of its own accord, stroking my shaft up and down, up and down . . .

I couldn't hold back any longer. As my spanking continued, I started to jerk myself off, stroking and wiggling my hips in time to the spanks. A moan escaped my lips.

Then suddenly, Daddy stopped spanking.

My eyes flew open and I looked up at him in surprise. “D-Daddy!” I gasped. “Why did you stop?”

He looked down at me, resting a hand on my bottom and gently stroking my hot cheeks. “Oh,” he said nonchalantly, “I think you've learned your lesson. That's enough spanking for now, don't you think?”

“But -- but, Daddy! Just a moment longer -- please -- ”

Daddy looked over at my hands, still resting on my cock and partly hiding it from view. I knew he'd noticed what I was doing.

“Well,” he said after a moment, “I suppose I could spank you a little longer . . . until you've finished up there.” He leaned down closer and said in my ear: “On one condition -- I'm going to call the waitress over here, and you're going to ask her to bring me a big, wood spoon from the kitchen, so I can finish spanking your bad little bottom properly. Understood?”

I gulped. Despite the fact that we were in the middle of a restaurant, with dozens of people gawking at my bare, spanked bottom, I'd still hoped we could finish this as inconspicuously as possible. But I knew that Daddy wasn't going to take no for an answer.

I nodded. “Yes, Daddy.”

Daddy called the waitress over then, and told her that I had a request.

She looked down at me, smirking slightly -- I think she might have guessed that part of the reason I was being so humiliatingly punished was for being rude to her.

I felt my face redden even further, and it took all of my willpower to speak: “M-Ma'am,” I stammered. “Would -- would you p-please bring out a big, wooden spoon so that Daddy can finish spanking my naughty bottom?”

She smiled. “The customer is always right!”

She turned and left, but was back in just a moment with a huge, heavy spoon that almost could have served as a bread paddle. Daddy took the monster spoon, thanked her politely, and then turned back to me.

“Ready for the rest of your spanking, my bad little boy?” he asked.

“Yes, Daddy.”

Daddy raised the spoon, and brought it down with a resounding thwack! on my right cheek. It stung like crazy, and I knew I was going to have some bruises, but just then I didn't care -- a wave of pleasure came along with the pain, and I started stroking my cock again, moaning shamelessly.

Daddy paddled me with that spoon like he was trying to wear my red, aching bottom out, and I stroked myself off feverishly, writhing and kicking my legs even as Daddy held them in place high in the air.

I knew everyone in the room had a prime view of my bright red bottom. I knew they could all see me pleasuring myself and enjoying this spanking more than I had any right to. I knew they could hear my moans, and they definitely couldn't miss the gunshot-loud thwacking of the huge spoon on my unprotected bottom.

But I didn't even care anymore. This spanking hurt more than anything, but it also felt so, so good . . .

“Daddy,” I moaned, stroking myself faster and faster, as the spanking increased in speed too. “Spank me harder, Daddy!”

And he did. Winding up for each spank like a batter, he paddled my bottom harder and faster than he ever had before.

Then, with the most shameless moan of all, I came -- all over my hand, all over the tablecloth, and some even got on the floor. I knew Daddy would probably use that as an excuse to spank me again later -- maybe even tonight, on my already sore bottom.

But now, he just lifted me back onto my feet, and helped me pull my pants up.

The waitress walked over to our table again.“Will there be anything else, sirs?” she asked, hiding a smile.

Daddy winked at her, and handed her back the spoon. “Just a cheque.”

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