Maybe it's perverse or worse to write this? Who knows? But I'm not ashamed of me or of the life style I've half chosen here in Germany. So when Cal ask -- actually told is more like it -- me to write a bit about my life with Unk, why not? Unk knows I wrote it, has read it, and even made some comments on it.
I like my life here and intend to stay, though I will admit there are moments when I think about going back to Florida. Maybe it started as a fantasy of mine or something deeper somewhere back when. I don't know. What I do know now is the scariest word out of Unk's lips for me are always present.
It's when Unk looks over at me and says, "Time for your spankin', Nicky."
I hate those words. Absolutely detest them! It's always "spankin'" and never "spanking." That alone sends me up the wall. When he says them and he says them a lot, I get my ass spanked. He does it a lot. I know he enjoys it. Spanking me that is. I think of him as a part sadist and he doesn't object to that term. He never beats me, but he spanks me a lot. Usually I get spanked more on the weekend or when we are up at his cabin. OK, I like the life style and all that goes with it. I've learned to welcome it. OK, maybe I'm a little masochistic myself, but there ain't nothing wrong with that I don't think. It's our life. I'm actually free to walk out any time. But I can't, or wont, or whatever because I like it here with Unk. I like someone being in charge of me, making decisions about lots of things, watching me, and then being man enough to enforce them dependably and disciplining me with spankings no matter what I think. I like a real man. Not one playing around either.
When I was in college and high school, I used to think a lot about a guy spanking me. Sometimes it was an older guy, or like a teacher, that always make more sense and made it more real for me; but sometimes it was also a guy my age or even younger. It was always a guy though. Someone who just did it.
I grew up in south Florida and was never spanked at home or in school, but the desire was always there. I'd hear the other guys talk and some of them got spanked once in a while and I always hoped it would happen to me someday. It never did.
During college, I took a study program in Germany and fell in love with the place. It was wonderful. Still is. People here are strong and the culture is marvelous and open. I met lots of friends but the man having the most influence of my life back then was Helmut, an industrialist with plants mostly in Southern Germany. It started out as friendship, dinner at the Grand Hotel, trips in his car to fabulous places, and nights in places as exotic as Prague just after it opened up and became something unbelievably marvelous in my eyes. Helmut was good to me. Never did anything at all out of line back then. But what really attracted me to Helmut, who was already about 60 when I met him and a huge man with silver white hair and big glasses that he could peer over and look at you when he wanted to, was the amount of power he exercised in his business dealings and the way he spoke and people jumped immediately. I really admired that in Helmut. His voice was deep and reeked authoritarian. He never spoke that way to me, but sometimes I used to hope someday he really would. We were introduced by friends in that bar in Heidelberg made famous by "The Student Prince." Friendship developed from then. With him I could go places, do things, and he never back then ever touched me, though sometimes I'd wished he would.
I was studying when we first met and we lead separate lives, I had a girl friend and sometimes a boy friend, no question asked, but of all the people I met in Germany, he fascinated me the most. I knew I wanted to be with him and I secretly hoped he would be what I used to call stern with me back then. He never was. He was more into fancy affairs with lots of super guys around, touchable but untouchable if you know what I mean. He liked to look. I attracted him (and others too).
I'd spend weekends with Helmut back then. He liked me and others in suggestive clothing and I was happy to oblige, but he never touched me. My exhibitionist streak was satisfied, especially when his friends were around who were all mostly like him though they didn't hesitate to touch. I stayed close to him. He liked me in tight cloths, revealing some but not enough, and he especially like me around in a jock, T-Shirt and white, very high athletic socks. I liked it too. Part of my tease days, I guess. I've always found I could attract those I wanted and Helmut was certainly one, but I never got him to touch me.
I'll admit now, though I would never have admitted back then, I tried lots of things to get him to be authoritarian and stern with me. That's what I really wanted from Helmut. It never happened.
After a year or so, we were more like grandfather and son and soon I stayed more and more with him and he helped me buy things and we put some deals together together. He had no heirs and it was as if I was his adopted son. Still he never touched me or spoke to me as I secretly knew I wanted. His love was making money and he did it very well. And he certainly did like to see me around his place in that jock!
One day I blew a wad of his money stupidly and he found out about it. That night he was finally stern as we talked about it in his huge house with both of us in suit and tie following a formal dinner party earlier that evening. It was the first time I'd ever seen him annoyed with me. I tried to take advantage of him and to egg him on and push him into getting angry with me and I knew I was doing it on purpose. I pushed hard and even rudely as I think back about it now. I knew what I was doing. I'd seen him blow up with others. Why not with me?
Ultimately I succeeded and I'll never forget it. Helmut was finally fuming and standing there looking me over from above those glasses and then he said, "Sometimes you act like a teenage child who needs discipline."
My heart was beating wildly when I formed my words carefully and said back to him, "No one ever has. Why don't you, if you really care about me and my future?"
I'll never forget the look in his eyes and he stared at me, almost puffing anger and frustration at me, and seemed to be thinking in that old Germanic male way. He stared like that for what seemed like forever, but I got my wish. All of a sudden he took me over his lap and spanked me.
It was like my world had opened up. Even though he spanked me with my cloths on, which is something Unk never ever has done, it was a taste and I wanted more. I had on my tailored thin slacks and it hurt but not enough. The feel of his hand spanking my ass was beyond my wildest hope. I became alive over his lap when he'd finally had enough of me and took action into his own hands for my own benefit. He told me what I was going to do to correct my ways and when he was through spanking me like that he insisted on standing me in the corner so I could think about it. I was high! I knew I wanted more, but I certainly couldn't tell him or anyone that. I wanted to tell my best friend about it, but I couldn't get up the nerve. Too humiliating to admit what he'd given me maybe? But I really wanted him to spank me for real. I wanted to feel what it was like to have to take down my pants for him and feel his hand spanking my bare ass for real. I couldn't tell him but I spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to get him mad enough at me to really do it right to me. I wanted it from him. Germany's full of S&M groups and paddle clubs and all, but that's not what I dreamed about. I didn't want the dress up and cruise bit and I'm not into S&M at all. I wanted someone stable in my life at that point who would care about me but who would also discipline me and much more that Helmut had that first night. I knew it then and I know it now. I had found something I really wanted.
Still Helmut had spanked me only a couple of times after that first night, twice I think, though I'd tried to get him to do more, and always with my cloths on, when Unk walked in and caught me with that girl who's name I don't remember anymore but who's body has been forever lodged in my mind. I was horrified beyond anything I can ever say that night when he caught me like that and dragged me across his lap and spanked me with her watching me get my first ever real spanking. That was the first time I had ever been naked across a man's lap completely again my will and though I didn't have time to think about it right then, it was what I had always thought about happening to me someday. Unk was very angry and spanking me right and forcing me to take it like I'd always dreamed it would happen. He was a man who would spank me because I had really screwed up and who wouldn't stop no matter what until he decided I had had enough even if someone was there at the time. I let loose, fought for all I was worth, but he wouldn't relent and instead he treated me like I needed and had always hoped someone would have the guts to do. Someone to make me accountable and stand up to me. He did.
Maybe it's worth adding that Unk took it upon himself to right away tell me I was to stop seeing that girl. That was extremely difficult for me at that point in my life especially because I was involved with her. He would hear none of it, but after Unk reinforced my stubbornness on that issue several times with a paddle that suddenly appeared in his hands next time we discussed it, I began to understand that that decision was not mine to make or question. I hate it, no, fear it, more than anything else because I know what that small paddle can do to me and in record time too! It's still in my life, though Unk doesn't use it often because I know how much he like spanking me with his bare hand, which more than does the job well on my bare ass anyway. I've learned the hard way, though, that Unk usually has it nearby, even when we are travelling someplace. He's been known to flip open his glove box when we're riding along, give me a warning, and let me know it's there just to get my attention for one reason or another. It always does! I hate that paddle! I don't argue with Unk. I know the consequences. His hand I can handle. I can't handle that paddle.
His proposal to me that time about his not telling Helmut was terrifying but secretly very exciting too. It wasn't that I was afraid of losing Helmut or the so-call will thing. That wasn't it at all. It was simply the fact of someone taking control of me and telling me what I was going to do plus the fact that I was seriously afraid of hurting Helmut's feelings that's all. The secrecy of being under his control was extremely exciting for me then.
That summer, Unk called me up to his cabin lots of times for a spanking. And that's exactly what he'd give me and it was always with my jeans and boxers down or even usually everything off. He'd spank me everywhere even on the deck of his small fishing skiff once or twice. It hurt like hell when he spanked me, and I'd fight and argue and promise the world to avoid it, but secretly my deepest dream started coming true. Until recently I did everything possible to insure he never knew that.
It continued that next Fall and Winter but at his place in Nurnberg. Both he and Helmut had places there inside the old city wall. The cold dark winter nights and white snows with the superior organ concerns in those magnificent stone cathedrals only complimented my deepest dreams and fantasies. I'll never forget one night during the Christmas Fair when the snow was everywhere, people were everywhere for the Fair, and his tree up was up with candles everywhere in his old stone and wood apartment. I don't remember why he spanked me but he didn't always bother to give me a reason anyway but that night when he spanked me, I actually came even though my tears were flowing. Unk had had lots of experience spanking me by then. He's had even more since then too.
Helmut died after a fairly short illness later and though I had his place, soon my life became too intertwined with Unk's. I'm here now by choice.
Some things I can't explain. I don't even know why I always call him "Unk?" He a big man, but not as big as Helmut, and he's not my Uncle. He's a good man, best friend, successful, kind, normal business man, what more can I say, but he also really likes to spank me and I know it turns him on when he's laying it on me and afterwards when he's soothing my very hot ass. I know he likes spanking me.
When he says "Time for your spankin'" for sure I tingle even to this day. That's never lessened because I know when he says it he means it and there is nothing I can do to escape it. His meaning is very clear and never varies. It means my slacks and boxers are coming down very soon and I'm going over his lap for the feel of his hands on my ass and I'm going to get a spanking from his hand or paddle or strap or whatever and until I'm crying my eyes out usually and emotionally exhausted and he and he alone decides I've had enough.
When he spanks me like that, I'm emotionally drained but also somehow higher and more alive than ever. I can't explain that feeling.
If we're out at dinner, that "Time for your spankin'" usually means as soon as we get home and also a sign dinner's over because he's decided we're leaving right then. Luckily the old walled city isn't very big and places, especially great restaurants, are all within short walking distance. Those walks with him right beside me and saying nothing at all create panic and an emotional high in me that I could never explain to anyone who hasn't been there. My body tingles and sometimes even my legs get wobbly when we walk past people who nod our way or worse when we meet friends unexpectedly and I wonder if they can sense my panic and guess what's going to happen to me when he gets me home and locks that door behind him? It's unbelievable for me.
If it's during dinner at his place, well, that "Time for your spankin'" usually means he's pushing back his chair from the table right then and I'm going to get it right then. Doesn't matter if one of his or our friends are over once he decides either. Sometimes he takes me into another room, sure, but when it's over, I'm right back at the table, red eyes and all, and the dinner conversation will continue as if nothing ever happened. It better continue that way and I better be participating as if nothing happened, because otherwise he's been know to up and spank me again for bad manners in front of guests. That's difficult for me! I don't like being spanked in front of anyone else and I especially don't like anyone else to know how he treats me! He sees it the opposite way and like his friends to know he's in charge. Consequently, I frequently get a swat or two on the seat of my pants when others are around, especially new ones. One small circle of his friends are other successful men who also have guys they too discipline but even then I'm horribly embarrassed when even they know. I can't help it.
I want to be clear here. I don't think anyone actually likes getting a spanking. Sure there is the excitement I feel leading up to it and all, but a spanking over Unk's lap really hurts! It's no game, it hurts and I don't like it at all when he's disciplining me. Sometimes friends who know what I'm still subjected to ask me why I let him swat me or say things to me like he does when others are around? Sure those times embarrass and humiliate me the most and I wish he'd stop doing that! No question! But still I've learned to swallow my shame and all my pride to and take that embarrassment as best I can because I know for sure that if I show any sign of resistance or if I challenge Unk's authority in any way, he is likely to just grab me and take me into another room and really spank me, or worse do it in front of them, and when we get home that paddle will appear quickly. He puts up with nothing. So I accept the shame I feel. The alternative is much worse.
Mornings are good times for him to want to spank me, but so are evenings or ever afternoons. It makes no difference. He decided when I need it and how and that's that.
If it's during time at the cabin on the lake, so be it. Whatever. It makes no difference.
Maybe I'm strange, I don't know, but I don't think I'm all that rare. There are other guys around, though mostly Northern Europeans, who also live this lifestyle and some who's men know each other. Actually it's not fantasy. It's an often dull, normal life and I work too and lead an outside life just like any other professional my age. In German society, that means formality plus. No problem.
The only difference is I get spanked a lot. Sometimes there will be a message from Unk that I'm to meet him at home for lunch. I know exactly what that means! If my schedule permits me to make it, and I sure try, I meet him as his message has said. Instead of lunch being on the table, I see him and he'll say "Time for your spankin'" and almost before I have my coat hung up and the door shut and locked I'm over his lap getting my bare ass spanked royally. I keep an eye drop fluid on hand to at least try to take care of the redness in my eyes before he sends me back to work with a swap to my pants. That part's not easy! Sometimes business just doesn't permit a convenient break when he's said so. That's worse, because I worry all afternoon and know there will be Hell to pay when I finally do met him later. And there always is too.
Over the year's Unk's fascination with my bare ass has increased and there's no doubt about it. He loves spanking me and sort of having me like that. Hard to explain this, but I guess I don't really have to. I really like the control he has over me. It's been a major benefit in my life and career too and I've come to really like him a lot, even when he spanks me. I am far ahead of my peers professionally and otherwise because of the control Unk has over me and the way he has constantly reinforced my sticking to my plan and attaining my own professional and personal objectives. I still don't like it when he's actually spanking me, but I owe him almost everything for what he has helped me attain. I can't argue with that and I wont.
And, at least in my mind, my dream has come true. I really like being around one man, Unk, who takes charge naturally, doesn't play games, but knows how to spank. He's a different breed who will go the extra mile for me for sure, and I'm not just saying that because he's going to read this again.
What more can I add? If you have a man like this in your life, you understand. If you don't, you probably never will. But I will say, I am certainly not alone or the only one. Most of these men I've met through Unk's friends are solid and successful men who treat people well and enjoy good food and good company. They also just happen to believe in spanking and don't hesitate to practice what they believe. I think Europeans are more open about this sort of thing than Americans anyway. Maybe I'm a small minority in America (though I don't think so), but if so, so be it! I like my life and I'm proud of whom I have become.
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note: the above is a true story of a young American man, now 29, living in Germany. Nicky wrote it. I edited it in very minor ways and posted it. "Unk" has also told his side in another posting with this. When Nicky finished the above and handed it to me after Unk had first read it, Unk congratulated him on his honesty and then in front of me and some others who happened to be there, simply bared him and spanked him. No question Nicky's bare bottom is still well suited to a spanking and there is also no question that when he gets one, he gets one for real. He did that night.