Days of Discipline (continued)

by Bbwrr2 <>

JIM and FRANKY: Ages: 36 and 44

Occupations: Clerk and salesman

Descriptions: Blond, blue eyes, 5'9", 150 lbs;

Brown hair, fair, 5'10" 165 lbs.

Jim and I originally got in contact because we were two overgrown bad boys who both felt that, though the hand, a paddle, belt or switch can be

very effective implements of discipline, it was the wooden hairbrush strictly and stingingly applied to our bare bottoms that really taught us a lesson.Originally, we discussed the possibility of getting together with a man or men who would discipline us both. Finally, though, Jim decided that he himself wanted to take charge of my fanny and show me what a real hairbrush spanking could be.

When I arrived at his place, Jim immediately ordered me to take offboth my jeans and my underpants. Jim then sat on a stool-like box and pickedup a small-faced, wooden hairbrush. He then told me to get across his lap, pronto. I obeyed, and he positioned me so my nose was low, my toes barely touching the floor, and my white, naked fanny pointed directly at the tightly focussed lens of his video camera.

Then Jim began to spank me. TWACK! TWACK! There were no warmups,no gradual increase in intensity. From the very first, I was going to get spanked and spanked hard! I have found that, many times, the most severe

lickings of all are given by other bad boys, and that was certainly trueof Jim. As I myself could later see on the videotape, by the third or fourth crack of the hairbrush, my bare bottom began to wiggle, and within a very

short time, was doing the desperate dance of a discipline problem getting

what he deserves! My legs were up off the floor and waving wildly in the

air, and though my face was away from the camera, my increasingly loud cries of pain and protest are easily heard on the tape. Jim, meanwhile, simply

continued whacking my writhing rear, telling me I was going to get a hairbrushing I'd never forget! My rapidlyly reddening rump bounced frantically over Jim's lap, but he simply leaned his weight across my back to hold me in position as the hairbrush continued its rhythmic thwacking ofmy helpless behind. Stern correction was what I needed, Jim said, and it was stern correction I would get.

After a good ten minutes (perhaps more) of solid spanking, Jim allowed me to crawl off his knee and sent me to stand in the corner. He then sat

there, a noticible erection tenting his gym shorts, and had a leisurely look at my pink and throbbing bottom. He went to the kitchen, got a beer, and

held the cold can against my hot cheeks, which provided me with a little relief from the stinging pain in my rear. But, soon enough, I was over Jim's knee for the second round, this time with a different hairbrush and a thin, oval paddle. Grabbing me firmly around the waist, Jim delivered spank after resounding spank rapid-fire to my squirming heine. My pleas and promises

fell on deaf ears. When the man spanking you is a bad boy himself, he knows all your tricks. Jim understood that, as my fanny really began to burn,I would, of course, try to beg and bargain my way out of further punishment.He was not going to be taken in. As my protests increased, so did the force and frequency of the smacks on my now blistering bottom. On the tape, I could later see how I looked, my legs kicking and opened and closing to reveal my _c_o_c_k_ and balls. My cheeks bouncing too, exposing my puckerholeto the camera. And all the time, the TWACK! TWACK! TWACK! of the hairbrush.

When spanking no. 2 was done, I stood in front of Jim and tried to rub some of the fire from my reddened rear. Then, I was sent to take a nap, which I really did need. After an hour or so of sleep, I awoke to discover, in addition to a tingling behind, I had a big hard-on. I began to simultaneously rub my pecker and my tender buttskin, which felt real good.I was very close to shooting a load when I opened my eyes to see Jim standing in the doorway, watching, with the "BathBat" in his hand.

The "BathBat" is a large, square, 3/4 thick wooden long-handled bathbrush, which was, within seconds, crashing down on my already sore behind. Jim manuevered me across his lap once again, and I was soon, as before, kicking wildly as I got a thorough lecture on the evils of masturbation, with the frequent punctuation marks supplied by the BathBat.My already blushing fanny just got redder and sorer, and my situation as visiting brat all the more apparent: I had been caught playing with myself like a horny teenager, and now,, like a naughty boy, was paying the appropriate price with my bare bottom!

Such feelings were re-enforced a little later, when Jim's friend Franky dropped by. Franky is a friendly, good-looking, easy-going man--half-Italian and half-Welsh--who nonetheless believes in strict corporal punishment.AS we all had a beer and talked, Jim turned on the television, and to my embarrassment and Franky's pleasure and amusement, we watched the replayof two of my earlier come-uppances at the hands of Jim. Franky commented on Jim's spanking technique, remarked on the severity of the spanking, and laughedat my naked fanny's futile attempts to escape its just desserts.

At the end of the tape, I was ordered to go stand next to Franky. He reached over and unzipped my shorts and let them fall to my ankles. He then yanked my underpants down to my knees. Under Jim's watchful eye, he turned me over his knee, and, as the two discussed the best ways to spank me, he

rubbed his palm all over my blistered behind. Jim told Franky I needed to get a good, hard licking, and Franky agreed that, from the looks of things onthe tape, only a really severe whacking would get through to me. Finally, heput one hand against the back of my neck and raised the other high in the air. "Ed," he said, "I'm going to give you a spanking you'll never forget."

Franky was as good as his word. First, he used only the palm of hishand for some good, old-fashioned fanny-slapping. Both direct and glancing blows struck my already tender buttcheeks and soon had me complaining lustily. That kind of conduct was addressed almost immediately by "I'll give you something to complain about!" as Franky picked up the leather Army belt he had brought. Doubled over, it cracked down again and again on my now squirming buns as I began to yelp and Jim began to laugh and Franky was saying in a

louder and louder voice: "You're going to get spanked--CRACK!--and spanked--CRACK!--and spanked--CRACK!--some more--CRACK--Until I--CRACK--decide--CRACK--you've learned--CRACK--your lesson--CRACK!!!

At some point, Franky undoubled the belt, wrapped it around his hand, and took after my wiggling cheeks with the tip of the strap, which left bright red welts on my already crimson rear. By that time, though, about all Iwas paying attention to was the constant burning in my bottom, writhing wildly on Franky's knee and trying to keep myself from breaking down. That didn'tlast too long, as Jim handed Franky one of the hairbrushes and he really wentto town.

As that hardwood hairbrush twacked time and time again across my desperately wiggling rump, I knew there was no holding back. My breathing was ragged and my chest very tight. Then, all of a sudden, I felt my eyes get wet and a big sob exploded out of my throat. My legs frantically kicked the air as I bawled like a baby there across Franky's knee, hiccoughing out the cry of a boy who is learning a hard lesson: "Waaa-aah-haah-aaaah--Waaahhhaaahh!!!"

Franky didn't slow down. The hairbrush continued its rapid, rhythmic whacks across my flaming behind. Anyone walking in then would have seenone big boy acting like a very little one, crying his eyes out as he learnedfrom two real believers in corporal punishment just what the word discipline meant.

Finally, the hairbrush was still, though I continue to squirm

desperately. "Now, you're going to get fifteen with the birch paddle," Franky said, "and then I think you'll have learned your lesson." With that, he picked up the square, hardwood paddle and, in quick succession, landed fifteen stiff whacks across my blazing bottom. That, of course, set me to howling again. After he had applied the last one, he gently pulled me up

from over his lap and sat me on his knee. He rubbed my chest and crotchand passed his hands gently up and down my burning behind. I was still shaking and sniffling, but gradually I started to calm down. "It's okay now," Franky said, "You've been punished now. It's okay."

That may have been true for Franky, but it wasn't for Jim. After Ihad quieted, and at least a little bit of the sting had been coaxed from my fanny, Jim took me by the arm and led me over to his stool. He positioned me so that my rear end was facing Franky, while he had placed a mirror so Icould look over and see my face in it. "You're gonna get one more blistering, boy!" he said. Then he picked up the hairbrush Franky had justed used, raised it high in the air, and got down to business.

Many twacks later, I could hear Franky saying: "Yeah. That's it. Beat that ass. Yeah! Look at him wiggle that ass. Yeah! Do it!" Though I couldn't see it, I knew it must be red as a cherry as it bucked and bounced there over Jim's knee. Looking in the mirror, I could see my tear-streaked face, all scrunched up with my mouth open, letting out my unbroken criesof pain and embarrassment. In that moment I knew: I was just a big, bawling brat, who had found two men who were very willing to bare my bottom and give me the kind of spanking I so richly deserved.

This concludes "Days of Discipline (Men Who Spank! III)", and for the present, the series "Men Who Spank." Here you have read of SEVENTEEN MEN WHO SPANK! who do not hesitate when it is necessary to bare and blister a boy's behind. In ONE YEAR, I was spanked on 28 different occasions. Each of those sessions involved between one and twelve separate spankings. This means, in 52 weeks, well over one hundred lickings. In my forties, I have been spanked more frequently, harder, and more embarrassingly by more men than at any other

time in my life. I can only hope, in coming years, I continue to meet even more MEN WHO SPANK who will pull down my pants, turn me across their knees, and give me the old-fashioned discipline I need.

The lesson to be learned here is that, for those who still need a good spanking, there are MEN WHO SPANK! out there who believe in and practice sound corporal punishment. And for those MEN WHO SPANK!, well, you know where to find me!

Other stories byBbwrr2