Big Birthday Surprise

I have a question before we get to the actual story. I recently read some stories on this site where a son who is preteen or in his early teens touches his mom's tits, or goes down on her, or she touches his dick, or some combination of these. I am not complaining or being critical of that. I love those stories! I always picture me and my mom. The last story I submitted here was about me being spanked by my mom as a preteen. Her intent was not sexual at all, but I got turned on, and played with myself in private afterwords. It was intended to be part one in a multi-part story, with this one being the final part. It was rejected, and the given reason was sexual contact with a child. So my question is, why the inconsistency? Is it on the whim of the person reviewing the material, and therefore unpredictable? Or is there something I can do in my writing to make it more likely a story will be approved? I spent much of my teen years with sexual thoughts about my mom in the back of my head; in my late teens I was ready to consciously acknowledge it (to myself, not out loud) and began to indulge in touching myself to sexual fantasies involving her. I would like to be able to share some of that here. That is a true story. The story that follows is a fantasy. For my 18th birthday we had a pool party in the back yard. My mom was wearing a bikini. I kept stealing glances of her the whole time, doing my damnedest not to get caught staring. I kept thinking since this is my birthday, she should give me a spanking. I should lie across those sexy thighs and get some good, hard smacks. And not just 18 of them. My thoughts raced to when I was younger. Mom hadn't spanked me in several years, and I really missed it. Spankings were always bare bottom over her knee. She used to use a paddle that was roughly the same shape as a ping-pong paddle. Other times she would use a wooden hairbrush or spoon, a paddle-shaped cutting board, or her belt. Oh, the belt. Very few times had she taken off her belt to me. Those spankings were the most memorable. I couldn't wait to jackoff after a belt spanking. All the spankings were too hard for me to get an erection during. I always got one after, thinking about it. This day I longed to take off my bathing suit and go over my mom's knee for a long hard belting. Or paddling. Or brushing. Any kind of spanking! It got chilly after sundown, but the party was still going strong. We just moved it inside. We had a small ping-pong tournament, as well as some music and dancing. Then my friends all left, and it was just me alone with my mom. God, she's beautiful. I feel like a bit of a freak for having the thoughts I have about her. But who could really blame me? I can't help it she looks so hot. Every inch of her, from her hair to her feet seems to have been handcrafted to turn boys on. She was starting to clean up from the party, and I was just staring at her. Her gorgeous face, perfect tits, and curvaceous body. She has a full, plump ass that is just the perfect shape. And sexy legs that go on for days. She turned and noticed me looking at her. Mom smiled, clearly a bit confused and uncomfortable from my staring. She just asked if I had got everything for my birthday I had wanted. I just turned away, embarrassed. She gave me a hug and asked what was the matter. She looked in my eyes with loving concern. It took every bit of self control I could muster not to squeeze her ass and stick my tongue in her mouth. I just said, “There is one thing. It's kind of embarrassing. It's been in the back of my mind all day.” Mom hugged me again and then said, “Sweetheart, you can tell me anything. What is it?” “I think I need a spanking.” My mom grinned. “A birthday spanking is supposed to be part of the party, in front of your friends.” She gave my butt a couple of light taps. “But I can still give you one.” I had been going over a little speech in my head, trying to put together something that wouldn't sound too strange and might convince her to do it. “No, I mean a real spanking. Like you used to do when I was little. There were several I didn't get I know I deserved. I've been feeling guilty about it for a while, and the best gift you can give me is to take away my guilt.” I gestured toward a paddle that had been left on the ping-pong table. “And I know of one sure-fire way to do that.” The idea of a softer, more playful spanking before the real one did sound good, so I added, “Maybe give me my birthday spanking, and then a real one?” Mom sat in a chair and looked at me. She said, “If you really think so, I don't mind at all. I think you're right, a long spanking will do you some good. But if I start spanking you, I won't stop until I'm satisfied I've done a thorough job of it. It will be the paddling of your life. You can beg me to stop, and I won't stop. You can try to cover your butt, or to get off my lap, and that will just add to your spanking. I'm not going to half-ass it. I'll do it right, or not at all. So it's up to you. If you really mean what you said, bring me a paddle.” I handed my mom the paddle, dropped my speedo down to my ankles, and bent over her lap. She put her hand in the small of my back and gently glided the paddle across my butt several times. She said, “Ok, Michael, I'll give you your birthday spanking first. This won't really hurt, but it will probably tingle a bit. 18 swats on each cheek, and then 18 in the middle. Count them out loud.” The first “whack” was on the right cheek, but it didn't even qualify as a tease. I barely felt it. I thought, she can't be serious. After a brief pause, she gave me several hard smacks with her hand, saying, “I told you to count! Let's try this again.” The next whack with the paddle was only a little harder. I counted, “One.” The next was still on the right cheek, a little harder still. “Two.” She continued spanking my right cheek, each spank a little harder than the one before. Finally around 10 it actually started to feel like a light spanking. I hadn't anticipated anything so mild. I was fighting a hardon. I lost. Long about whack 16 my male member started to stand at attention. Mom didn't acknowledge it, just kept going to 18. Then she said, “What's this I feel against my thigh?” I didn't answer. She gave me several hard smacks with her hand, saying, “Answer me, young man!” My mom was going to humiliate me by making me say it. God, what a turnon! “Sorry, mom. It's an erection. I don't know why.” This brought several more hard hand smacks. “Yes you do. You're enjoying this.” then she just rested her hand on my backside. “That's ok. It's ok to like your birthday spanking. Enjoy it while you can. You will not like what comes after.” Then she paddled my left cheek 18 times, just the same way as she had the right one. The whacks in the middle were really something. She gave me a light tap right on my ass crack, and I counted “One.” Just as on each cheek, each whack on the crack was a bit harder than the one before it. After 4 of them, I felt a stirring in that little patch between my ass and balls. This was in addition to the simple sexual arousal I already had in spades, and it added to it. Mom just kept paddling me, each whack a little harder. I noticed a change in my own voice when I counted number 7. My arousal was evident in my voice, it was becoming more of a moan. Mom was not deterred. On the next whack, I realized my dick had started to throb. I could swear this made my mom laugh. I know I heard her laughing as she continued to spank me. Not that I minded. I was in heaven over her lap. I was wishing those next 10 whacks were more like 10,000, each one still getting harder. Mom could spank me like this all week, and I would just ask for more.   Doing a not quite adequate job of hiding the amusement in her voice, mom said, “Ok, play time is over. Now it's time for your real spanking.” I had forgotten how strong she actually is. I've been spanked by men on the muscular side who couldn't hit half as hard as my mom does when it's time for a real spanking. Even with the extended warm-up she had just given me, I wasn't ready for this. I yelped and jumped. She went on paddling me in the same slow steady rhythm I remembered. Some people assume a faster spanking would hurt more. But this is not the case. Your body has a defense mechanism that will block out a great deal of the pain in a fast spanking. Mom's slow, hard spanking style is far more effective. I loved it and hated it at the same time. I wanted my mom to keep on spanking me hard, but this really hurt. I squirmed a lot, my bare, throbbing cock rubbing against the tops of her bare thighs. Before I realized what I was doing, I had moved my hands to cover my butt. She stopped long enough to use both her hands to push both my hands onto the small of my back, one hand on top of the other. She then held them there with her left hand. She's right-handed. Her right hand resumed paddling me as hard as she could, while her left hand effortlessly held both of my hands in place. And I really did try to pull them free. I was pulling with all my might. That' how strong she is. She said, “I warned you. You just added to your spanking.” Mom kept on paddling me as hard as she could, and I kept on trying to pull my hands free. Then I realized I liked being restrained like that. It was more of a turnon to be spanked with being restrained than it was without. I wanted my legs to be restrained as well, so my squirming gave way to trying to move off her lap. I knew mom knew how to handle a naughty boy trying to get away from her, and she didn't disappoint. She pushed me back in place by my hip and then put her leg across the back of my legs, locking them in place. Now my dick was against her inner thigh. And I was restrained to the maximum. She said, “And we add some more to your spanking.” She kept on paddling me as hard as she could. Her arm did not weaken. And neither did my erection. She finally said, “My god, young man! You STILL have an erection! You're enjoying this, aren't you!” I didn't answer. She sat the paddle down, reached her hand between my thighs, found enough testicle to be able to squeeze (they were most of the way retracted, but not entirely) and squeezed hard. “ANSWER ME!” “Sorry, yes.” “I know something you won't enjoy!” She released the holds she had on me, both holding me down and my balls. “Go into your room, get your belt, and bring it to me.” I stood up and started to pull up my speedo. She said, “Don't put that on. Just bring me the belt.” While I was in my room, I checked out my ass in the mirror on my dresser. It was dark red, with some purple bruises starting to come through. And now mom was going to start my real spanking from the beginning, with the belt. I handed her the belt and bent over her knee. This time she locked my legs and pinned my hands before she even started spanking me. The first lick of the belt felt like fire on my bare backside. I let out a loud yelp, my body jerked, and I tried to stand up. Mom just held me in place, slowly whipping my ass as hard as she could with the belt. I could feel my eyes tearing up. I bit my bottom lip hard, struggling to keep from crying out. I was even more turned on than before, but my erection did finally go down. Mom stopped long enough to say, “Ok, now that you're not being a little pervert and getting off on it, your real punishment can begin. Of course, with added licks for being a pervert.” Then she had a field day, whipping my naughty bottom as hard as she could. I couldn't hold my crying in anymore. There I was. 18 years old, getting a punishment belting over my mom's knee. She had me pinned down, greatly restricting my motion. I continued to squirm, to try to stand up or move my hands. After a while, my crying was more like howling. I never thought a spanking could hurt this much! And they had hurt a lot in the past. Having bruises that lasted a few days wasn't exactly rare. This spanking was already far and above the most severe ever, and there was still a lot more to come. After a while, my crying was all howling. I stopped fighting my mom and just went limp over her knee. She kept on belting me with all her might. My howling continued, now with some screams mixed in. It still wasn't over. It still went on for a few more minutes. By the end, I was just howling and wailing at the top of my lungs but still feeling the full effect of each lick of the belt. Mom was still belting me just as hard as she had at the beginning. Then my mom stopped holding me down and spanking me. I still remained over her knee, howling and wailing. She said something, but I couldn't make out what it was. She let me stay over her knee and howl for a little while. Then she guided me to stand up and gave me a long, tight hug. After that, she took me by my hand and lead me to my room. She guided me to lay facedown on the bed. I understood what she said next. “You stay in here and think about what you did to deserve that.” I stayed in my room for several hours. I thought about the whipping itself, not any misdeed I might have done. After a while my dick started to get hard again. I rolled over on my side and started playing with it. I orgasmed over half a dozen times that night, thinking about my mom spanking me over her knee. I wouldn't be able to take any kind of spanking for quite a while after this. But I started wondering if, when I was ready, I'd be able to get her to do it again. I hoped I would. The party was slow and boring, but this turned out to be the best birthday ever!