13 - My Last Spanking As a Boy


by Jason L. Parker <Jlpspanker@hotmail.com>

In 1997-98, I posted a series of true-life stories that got a lot of very positive e-mail response from readers of this website. I never finished the series, until now. In reviewing these original submissions, I have edited these stories and now repost them with typo corrections, etc. These repostings will be done every couple of days, and the series completed with new stories. This series begins when I was 11, and ends a year ago, with the stories posted chronologically. Enjoy!

Roxanne Foster was a great teacher. She connected with teenagers of both _s_e_x_es. Her French birth and initial schooling gave her an accent that was rarely present in schools when I was growing up. She was married with two children, a boy 12 and a girl 10. I guessed her to be in early 30's, with a great body, and a Mediterranean light olive complexion, with short auburn hair and flashing brown eyes.

This was my second course with her. My first class was in my sophomore year, when she was so happy I was going to get paddled by Coach Carter. That class was called "Personal Heath", and covered a bunch of basic mental and physical things, including modified _s_e_x_ education lessons. This year, in the spring semester, I took a course in "Intro to Psychology".

Over the two courses, we developed a real battle of verbal wits, because of the way our two personalities reacted to each other. Whenever I crossed over the line in class, she would warn me about not being too old or big to spank. This threat always got a laugh from my classmates. But beneath it all, I knew she was serious with her threat....and respected her words. Over the two years, in class, she explained how and why she spanked her own two children.

In late March, our school district always took a modified spring break, beginning on Wednesday and ending on Friday, thus giving us a five-day holiday. The week before the beginning of spring break, she asked me to stay after class for a couple of minutes. I did so.

"Jason, next Wednesday, I have to complete an assignment for my Ph. D. I have to make a physical inspection of five mental & physical health facilities outstate. I will leave around 6AM and return by around 8PM. I think you will benefit from the visits to these institutions. One of them will be the boy's state reform school. This will be a working day trip, and you must do exactly as I tell on this trip. But, it will be very educational for you, and help me complete a requirement for my degree. Would you like to go?", she asked with her best velvet accent, her eyes glimmering.

"Why sure, it sounds like fun.", I replied.

"Good, this Saturday, when you are at work, I will stop by your parents and clear it with them. Sound OK.", she chirped. She had the neatest way of saying "OK". I was a little puzzled by wanting to be so formal with my parents. Hell they had met her several times.

That weekend my Dad told me about Mrs. Foster's visit. He told me how proud he was that she thought enough of me to ask their permission for this trip. Then he slipped in a zinger.

"She had us sign a release form for this trip. In that form, it gives her full authority to discipline you on this trip....including spanking. She explained to us that you will be in places that require your total concentration and following her exact instructions. She can't have you ignoring her or smart mouthing her like you do in class. I told her to go ahead and paddle you just like I have, and she agreed. Don't screw up on this son, she probably will really paddle your butt hard. Understand?", he asked. I agreed.

On Monday, Mrs. Foster confirmed the details of her conversation with my parents, even showing me the form and where they signed off. "_d_a_m_n_", I thought she does have the right to paddle me. She then gave me something to think about.

"Jason, because of the time constraints we will be under and the places we will be visiting, you must do exactly as I say at the time I say it. There will be times when this insures your personal safety and mine. You will be under the "Rule of Once" the whole day. Do you understand what I mean?", she asked very seriously, really looking at me very intently.

"Sure, Mrs. Foster. I won't let you down.", I said with a big grin.

"Great Jason. I don't want to have to end the day by paddling you. Understood?", she asked again.

"Don't worry," I again repeated. But I was beginning to really wonder what I had agreed to. On Tuesday night she called my folks to make sure that I would be ready at 6AM. My Dad told her I would be waiting at 6AM. That call got me to thinking.

I went to the dresser in my bedroom and started going through my underwear drawer.

Buried at the bottom of all my white briefs was what I was looking for. All of my underpants were the same, white Jockey; Y-front boys and mens briefs....except one. It was a sample left by a manufacturer's rep for Munsingwear. The storeowner I worked for after school wouldn't let him put in a competing display of men & boys underwear, so he gave all the male store employees a sample brief to try out. Mine was size 28 men's white cotton brief. Unlike my Jockeys, it had a pouch and something very important. It had a double fabric seat, a real thick _d_a_m_n_ed thing. If I were going to be paddled, at least I would have a little more protection.

The next morning I was waiting for her, dressed in a navy blazer, grey slacks, white shirt & rep tie, wing tip shoes and of course my special underpants. I was ready.

She got out of the car and asked me to drive. I still was in love with my driving prowess, so I got an immediate kick out of being able to drive her white Chrysler 300 coupe. God it was a hot car. Her husband had a high paying job in insurance sales. The car cost more than she made as a teacher. We headed east and she set down the rules for the day.

"This note pad will record all of your mistakes. If you have any at the end of the day, you will be paddled according to your Dad's and my understanding. We won't have time to paddle you during the day, so all will have to wait until after the last visit. Any questions?", she asked in a serious tone. I shook my head "No", and just smiled at her.

About 7:30 we stopped for breakfast at a truck stop close to our first visit location. The truckers really liked the two tone brown dress she wore. It did fit her very nicely. After we finished breakfast I made my first mistake. After we paid the bill, she told me she was going to the restroom and freshen up. She told me to stay put and don't leave the building. I did just the opposite. I went out the car and reset the radio station buttons on her car. When she got into the car she was pissed. She wrote some things down on the notepad and handed it to me.

"Read it and sign it.", she growled.

I read it dumbfounded. I had earned a spanking! I nervously signed it.

Nothing eventful took place during our first inspection/visit. She was on cloud nine, it had gone so well. She waxed eloquent about how important the material was that she had gathered for her paper. Whatever that meant.

In the next visit, I earned another spanking. This facility was for the physically, mentally incurable. It was a really sad sight. But, Mrs. Foster did something in the facility that has literally saved my life since.

A patient lunged at her in one of the wards. Mrs. Foster distracted her with her hands and how she used her hands. It stopped the patient cold in her tracks, and the attendants quickly had her under control. My mistake was trying to help them.

When we got into the car, I signed off on my second spanking. Then we discussed at length what she had done. Even to this very day, I have used her techniques to distract drunks, dope heads and nuts until I could gain the upper hand. With the exception of one bar owner, the best I have ever known, and believe me I have known a lot of bar owners, I have never seen her techniques used.

By the time the day ended with dinner at another road stop, I had signed off on six spankings. After dinner I earned my final and seventh, by running a stop sign at the road stop and _d_a_m_n_ near hitting a 18-wheeler. Obviously my mind was now distracted, very distracted by the upcoming pain that was going to be delivered to my teenage butt.

About an hour from home we stopped at the light in a small town. Up ahead we could see the lights of a motel. As we approached it, she ordered me to turn into the drive. It was a large motel by those days standards, at least 30 units in three buildings.

"Jason, I can wait until we get to my house and spank you in my basement. Or I will go to the expense of getting us a room in back and spank you privately here. Which do you want to do?", she asked almost matter of factly.

"Christ it is my butt and my body we are talking about.", I thought.

"Let's do it here, but do we really have to do it?", I asked in a pleading voice.

"Yes Jason, it is smart mouth payback time.", and she got out of the car and went into the office. As she registered she pointed to me. Then she spent a few minutes nodding towards me and the clerk wound up looking at me through his window and grinning.

"What did you say to him?", I asked.

"I told him the truth. I told him you had misbehaved all day long, and now I was forced to paddle you. So I needed a quiet room, in an area with no guests. He understood perfectly, and told me spank you all I needed.", she said with a sly smile on her lips. We drove around to the back of the motel grounds and pulled up to room "17". This was getting real bad I though to myself. Once inside the motel room, she excused herself and went into the bathroom.

The room was large, being designed for two full beds, with only one in it. It had a small round table and two chairs in its place. I sat down in one of the chairs, waiting for the worst. I didn't have to wait long. She returned and sat down on the bed with her note pad and my seven sins, signed by me.

"Jason, I am going to paddle you on your underpants. From this point forward, if you don't do exactly as I say during this punishment session, I will add on additional bare butt spankings. The only clothes you will be allowed to wear are your underpants. Take all your clothes off now, starting with your shoes and socks.", she commanded rather sharply.

I did so. Then she ordered me to stand up and take off my jacket and lay it on the table. I again complied. Next she ordered me to take off my pants and put them on the table. Again I did so. Next came my tie and shirt. Then came my T-shirt. I was now in my white Munsingwear briefs and nothing else. My 17-year-old dick was becoming aroused at her commands. I was _d_a_m_n_ed confused. Then she ordered me to hang up all my clothes neatly on the clothes rack. I paraded my cotton-covered butt for her as I did as she ordered, hanging up my clothes. Just as I was finishing up, she told me to bring the paddle in her purse to me and stand in front of her.

I reached into her large, soft-sided purse and saw the paddle. I picked it up and realized I had never seen or been spanked with anything like this. The business end was about 5" in diameter, with a 7-8" long handle, about 1" wide. The whole paddle looked about 1/2" thick. I gave it to her, standing about two feet in front of her knees. She then began the punishment session for real.

"Jason, when I tell you to stand in front of me, you will stand straight, legs spread apart, and your hands clasped on top of your head. Do it!", she barked. I did just as she ordered.

She picked up the paddle and note pad at the same time and reread all seven of my sins. Then she dropped her bombshell.

"Jason, when I spank my son, he gets 12 swats. Unless, it is a repeat spanking for the same problem. Then he gets one additional swat for each time I have to repeat his spanking. He has never gone past 15 swats. You however, have 7 spankings coming. Therefore, each spanking will start with 12, plus the penalty of repeat. So to start, you will get a spanking of 12 swats. Then 13. Then 14. 15. 16. 17. And ending at 18 swats. If you don't do exactly as I say, your first penalty spanking will 19 on the bare. Do I make myself clear?", she asked very intently.

"Yes Mrs. Foster.", I answered, my voice creaking and my upraised armpits were sweating.

"One other thing. Your Dad told me he spanked you on your underpants. So will I, but I will adjust your waistband after each spanking. It won't take long for your butt to be almost bare. Now, pull one of those chairs into the middle of the room. Chair back facing the outside wall.", she ordered.

I did as asked, feeling sick to my stomach. "I am going to get at least 105 swats with that _d_a_m_n_ed paddle.", I thought to myself. I resumed my standing position next to the chair. She walked over to the chair, carrying the paddle and the note pad and sat down. She handed the note pad to me, ordering me to take it and read the first entry. I did as she asked. She ordered me to give the note pad back and lay across her lap. By this point, my dick was becoming aroused to the point of being obvious. I laid across her dress-covered knees/legs, in the classic OTK punishment position. Hands resting on the floor, toes supporting my legs.

She then began to adjustment my underpants. Tugging them up tight and then smoothing out the seat and adjusting the leg openings so they covered my butt cheeks and no more. Then she softly massaged the thick seat fabric as she described her paddle.

"My husband made this paddle just for you. My children get spanked with one that is only 4" at the circle and ¼" thick. Since you butt is bigger and you are older, you need something to make an impression on you.", she said picking up the paddle and lightly tapping it on my butt.

"Are you ready for your first spanking Jason?", she whispered.

All I could do was nod "Yes".

"Splat" Her first swat landed flush on my right cheek.

"It didn't hurt that bad.", I thought.

"Splat"

The second swat landed on my left cheek. About the same result.

"Crack"

My right hand shot back to protect the area of my butt, covered by the double fabric crotch half circle of my brief's seat. "God _d_a_m_n_. That really hurt.", I silently screamed.

She grabbed my wrist and pinned it to the middle of my back. Then she slowly and carefully gave me nine more swats, timing each one so that I couldn't relax from one till the next one landed. I wasn't crying, but it wasn't that I didn't want to. She ordered me to stand. I did, and quickly started rubbing my hot buns.

She looked at me and frowned. Picking up the note pad, she drew a big line and made another entry. "Sign it?", she ordered. I looked down and saw "19" circled by the entry. I signed it and immediately locked my hands on top of my head. No more rubbing. And now I was in for 19 bare butt swats additional.

She ordered me to turn around. She pulled down the seat of my briefs and examined the results of her first spanking. Then she pulled them up tight, readjusting the seat and then rolling the waistband under, reducing the coverage of my briefs from the top. I heard her pull up her dress and then she ordered me to turn around. I was going to be across her slip, and my dick stiffened.

She handed me the notepad I read the reason for my second 13-swat paddling. She ordered it back and for me to bend back over her lap. The second 13 swats _d_a_m_n_ed near sent me rolling off her lap. I had never been spanked by a hairbrush and wasn't prepared for the sting of her "paddle".

When she ordered me up this time, it was not as easy to stand. My knees shook from not being able to rub the fire out of my butt. Then she really stunned my 17-year-old brain. She turned around, her back facing me.

"I am not going to have you ruin this dress. Please unzip it for me and stand back.", she ordered. I unhooked the top of the zipper and unzipped it about 6" and stepped back. She turned around and frowned at me again. She picked up the note pad and made another entry, and handed it to me to sign "20" was circled with my unzip miscue. I had only partially unzipped her, not all the way like she asked. Now I was up to 39 bare butt swats. I signed off and gave it back to her. She put it back down and turned around. This time I unzipped the dress to below her waist and stood back. She stepped out her dress and hung it up, now wearing a two piece combo half slip and camisole....very pale ivory and very fancy lace trim. She sat down and handed me the note pad. I read the 3rd reason for a 14-swat paddling and gave it back to her. She ordered me to turn around. This time she didn't check my butt, but she did roll the waistband under again, leaving the top of my briefs just above the start of my ass crack. My dick was becoming even more aroused at her fondling of my briefs. "Thank God for the thick double seat", I thought.

Once in position, she wasted no time in relighting the hot pain in my cotton covered buns. 14 times she slowly spread her paddle swats all over my butt, leaving no area untouched. Then she ordered me to stand again. This time I went to me knees and then stood up, giving anything to be able to rub my butt. She ordered me to put my nose against the door and stick my butt out. I did so and I heard her step out of her half-slip.

She walked up behind me and rolled the waistband of my briefs under a third time. Now the waistband partially uncovered my ass crack. She inserted her fingers in the waistband and pulled it back up, recovering the top of my ass crack....but uncovering a corresponding amount of bottom butt cheek. "She is eventually going to bare my ass.", I thought. In rolling the waistband over, she uncovered the tip of my semi-erect dick. She slipped her hand inside the front of my briefs and laid it vertically flat against my stomach. That was the first time a woman had ever touched my dick. A couple of girls had groped it through my jeans and briefs, but never bared.

She stepped back and sat down on the edge of the bed and ordered me to return and face her. I was stunned at the sight of her lap. She didn't wear regular garters & hose. She wore gripper hose, with fancy tops. Her panties were as fancy as her camisole top, with just as much lace. Now my dick was really getting aroused. She handed me the _d_a_m_n_ed note pad and I read the reason for my fourth paddling of 15 swats.

She was positioned on the edge of the bed and drew me across her legs, the tip of my exposed dick resting on top of her hose, as the rest of my body was on the bed, and my feet rested on the floor. She picked up the paddle and rubbed it on the leg openings of my briefs and the now bare lower cheeks of my butt. The first two swats landed where she had rubbed and I _d_a_m_n_ed near fell off her lap. I put my arm back and she grabbed tight. 13 more times that _d_a_m_n_ed circular paddle blistered my butt. I finally started to cry, it hurt too bad to keep it bottled up inside me. When she was done, she spent a couple of minutes rubbing the seat of my briefs. Boy did that feel great. Then I was ordered to stand and resume my position, nose to the door. My butt stuck out and my nose was against the door, with my hands clasped on top of my head. I'm sure I made a hell of a sight.

After a couple of minutes I felt her approach again. This time she rolled my waistband over again, uncovering the top of my ass crack....and my dick. She slipped her fingers into the leg openings of each side of my brief's seat. Then she pulled them out and up, loosening the tightness. Pulling up on the waistband in back bared even more of my ass; almost one third of the bottom was bare. Plus, my dick was sticking out, the front of the waistband resting on top of my balls. I was in a state of total confusion. My dick was hard, my ass was on fire and my mind was reeling from the total experience.

She sat back down on the bed and ordered me to return. She handed me the note pad and had me read it for the reason for my 5th spanking of 16 swats. I gave it back to her and she pulled me across her lap. This time, my dick rubbed against her thighs and was rock hard. Then she really played with my head.

"Jason, since you just turned 17, and I didn't get give you a birthday spanking, I will make this 16 you are about ready to get 16 swats, come with an additional chore. You are to count out each swat, backward from 16. Don't make a mistake, or you will face 60 bare butt swats, instead of 39.", she threatened. She gripped my wrist hard.

I managed to handle the first seven without making a mistake. Then she rapid fired 9 through 6, totally screwing up my count. It was going to be 60 on the bare.

She resumed her normal cadence and I completed the count properly, though the final two put me back into even more tears. I was blubbering like a little boy now. Now I was embarrassed, stiff dick, hot ass and totally screwed up head. I was ordered to stand again and resume my position at the door.

After a few minutes she came over and massaged some of the heat from my buns. Then she rolled the waistband over a 5th time. This hooked the waistband in front under my balls, totally exposing them and my hard dick. She of course made sure the waistband was properly positioned in front, driving me up the door so to speak. Then she again tugged at the leg openings in back, tugging them up on my ass cheeks. Now I was over half bare, as she pulled up the waistband in back. The whole tightening process now put pleasurable pressure on my balls and crotch.

She resumed her seat on the bed and ordered me over to read the reasons for my 6th spanking of 17 swats. She pulled me across her lap, and she positioned my dick between the softness of her hose, and I instantly got hard again. She picked up the paddle and rubbed across the bared lower half of my buns. And that is where all the swats landed, all on the bare. Eleven times she distributed the swats evenly, the last six she did not. Three times she hit my lower left cheek with hard swats in the same exact spot. I tried desperately to move off her lap, but she held me tight as my crying became screaming. The next three on the right cheek were as bad, leaving me sobbing on her lap and she massaged the heat of my buns. My screaming and crying were now very loud. I understood now why she wanted privacy for my punishment paddlings.

This time she adjusted the waistband of my briefs all from behind, baring the lower 2/3 of my ass, without me getting up from her lap. Now the waistband really tightened against my balls and crotch. She read the reason for my 7th spanking of 18 swats. It was a virtual repeat, except she gave a different spot 4 swats each, very intense. I didn't even try to fight it. Afterwards, she spent probably ten minutes massaging my buns until I stopped crying and blubbering. Then she ordered me to stand. I stood up and she turned me around. Then she reached up into my crotch and grabbed a fistful of twisted briefs and slowly pulled down. Once at my ankles she removed them and I was now naked, my ass on fire and my body shaking from her painful swats. She ordered me to stand back.

She placed a pillow flat on the edge of the bed. Then another was doubled over on top of that. I was ordered to lap down on the pillows. As I did, she held my semi-stiff dick and balls against my stomach, so the pillow's fabric was rubbing my dick. My body was laying on the bed, hands still clasped to the top of my head. My toes barely touched the floor. She pulled my hands down to my sides and ordered me to raise up and slide my hands and arms under the pillows. I did, clasping my hand's thumbs together. I didn't want to run the risk of 82 bare butt swats. My flaming ass was now jackknifed up on top of the pillows. She picked up the note pad and read the reasons for my 60 bare bottom swats. Then she positioned herself for my final spanking.

She mounted the bed, spreading her knees apart on each side of my body, the edge of her knees almost to the pillows, and she sat down on my upper back, her weight pressing me down. Her nylon panties rubbed softly on my shoulders and her lower legs pinned my arms at their position. I couldn't move and that was obviously what she intended.

Then she picked up the paddle and tapped my buns in different spots, testing this new swat angle.

"Splat"

My legs kicked from the intensity of this new angle. I screamed and started crying again; trying to bury my face in the bed, to muffle my crying. On and on it went, slowly and carefully. What was worse was the swats on the sides of my ass cheeks. I had never been spanked there and it was a new and horrible pain....and she made sure that at least 10 swats visited each cheek. After several minutes it was over and I lay sobbing on the bed. My butt and body totally spent. In all my spankings I had never felt this exhausted from the pain and heat.

She ordered me to stand up and look at my butt in the mirror. I did so, slowly. I was stunned. My ass was a dark red, and very shiny. But it wasn't bruised! She had given me one of my worst spankings and I wasn't showing signs of welts and/or bruises. She ordered me to put back on my briefs. I untangled them and slowly pulled them up. "Hey, these may be the reason I am not purple.", I thought, my mind beginning to clear.

"Lay down on your tummy Jason.", she said softly.

I did and she lay down beside me. She moved her left arm under my head and pulled close to my body. Then she took her right hand and began to slowly massage the heat out of my butt. In seconds I was hard again. After a few minutes, her right hand began to slide up between my legs, fondling my hard dick. I was slowly beginning to have thoughts of what if. I was a virgin, and she had spanked me and yet made me rock hard through a lot of it. Then the $64,000- question was asked.

"Do you want to turn over?", she whispered. I did. Though lying on my ass wasn't real fun. It still hurt, bad.

Then she began massaging my thighs, crotch, balls and stiff dick through the fabric of my briefs. I was being turned on, without being kissed. Something my 17 year old mind and body were having a hard time with. Then she slipped her hand up my briefs, wrapping her fingers around my erect dick.

"This needs some relief. Shall I give it to you?", she asked softly. I nodded a quick "Yes" and she did just that.

She slipped my briefs down and off, dropping them on the floor. Then she pushed my legs apart and she laid down between my legs, her face next to my crotch. She then started to slowly and softly suck on my balls. This was another new experience. As she did, her left hand began stroking my stiff dick. As I started to moan and groan she really sent me over the edge. With a finger on her right hand, she began rubbing the scrotum area between my balls and butt hole, hitting all the right buttons. As she felt my load ready to erupt, she pointed my throbbing dick towards my head. My cum nailed me on the chin, as I cried out softly in total bliss.

As I laid there she went to the bathroom and got wet towel for my chin, chest and butt. She finished by lecturing me on why I had been spanked so hard and then I was also lectured on the safety of her _s_e_x_ual act. We drove home.

This story has an unusual twist. Obviously this woman seduced me, and used a hard spanking to do it. Eight years later I heard about a PdD student that failed her oral exams in a close by college to my college. The PhD story was passed onto me by a female classmate who I had told this story to over a beer. She was taking some courses at that other college. By the time she got through finding out the details of PhD story it was obvious that Roxane was the PhD student. Our whole trip had been a reason to get me alone to paddle me and seduce me. She was good...very good.

This story is true, just certain names have been modified. I travel in my own business, and have the freedom to safely satisfy the spanking needs of interested readers.


More stories byJason L. Parker