Plump spanked by hanging milking

I love the sound of a grown man bawling like a child. Which explains why he is bent over the arm of the sofa, sore, red and bare bottomed with a thermometer in him. Both times his lovely song of tears filled the house. His cries are soft now, a lovely orchestra playing softly in the background. He looks quite adorable with his little round bottom on display, propped up on the arm of the sofa. His feet just off the ground and his head buried deep in the cushions crying softly as I scold him.