(FOREWORD: This is a true extract from the journal of Brunelleschi, a man who spanks boys, as told to the author. For the purpose of clarity and continuity, minimal revision to the original text has been made.)
'Brunelleschi isn't my real name. But spanking certainly is my game. It's also what I get paid to play the game so well. My service is on the Internet and clients, mostly men, contract me, to help discipline someone they know.
I do believe that I'm providing a useful service because there's a need out there for it. I am just one of a small elite of spanking men who provide a similar spanking service. Financially, we do fairly well because there is yet no monopoly on the service.
My clients represent people from a wide social cross section and culture. They are working men who run the gamut of executives to professionals and the self-employed. Most of them are Caucasian but lately more and more of my clients have been writing me from places as far as Asia and Oceania. Such is the leverage of on-line and electronic commerce. We are in the market to homogenize cultures and needs.
My family and friends know what I do for a living (I've been a school principal for eighteen years) and the extra I do on the side disciplining boys. Spanking with my hand is the preponderance of my discipline modus operandi, but I also use implements such as the cane and paddle. I do not like to engage in spanking during _s_e_x_ myself, but I do have clients who want me to teach them how to spank their lovers in _s_e_x_. I oblige, but only if their lovers sign a document validating that they are consensual parties to being spanked. And so I teach my clients but I do not lay a hand or cane on their lovers. They do the spanking following my instructions.
I have never been criticized, or fallen foul of the law. I keep my business on the right side of the law. I keep myself clean, too. There are no drugs, no guns and no subversive materials such as child porn, in my home. Home is where I conduct my business.
However, I do sometimes make an exception and go to a client's home to conduct the business, but only when I'm convinced it's reasonable, and the client's reason is justified, to spank a boy of his at their home. All the boys I spank are called 'boys' by virtue of the subservient and obeisant posture my clients and I demand of them. It's got nothing to do with their age. Besides, I do not accept for spanking anyone younger than seventeen years old. I prefer that these boys have a homo-erotic relationship with my clients. I have yet to receive a request from a father, or an uncle, to spank a family member, say his son or nephew. But I have had one client, one time, that was a teacher from the same school, who wanted me to discipline his pupil.
One of my favorite memories is disciplining a nineteen-year-old college student, whose older lover had contracted me because he, the older man, had exhausted all his resources and ideas to stop his 'boy' from strip dancing at a go-go bar. Being a male strip dancer was borne of a dare that had gone awry. The 'boy' had been challenged by his fellow-bottoms to try it one time and he had enjoyed it so much that it became an obsessive leaning.
His older live-in lover, my client that is, had tried everything possible, short of chaining him to their bed naked every night, to rid him of his obsession: threats, warnings, suspension of _s_e_x_ual activities. After admitting to suffering a penury of avenues, he finally decided that regular spanking might do the trick, but he didn't want to spank his boy himself. He was not a spanking man; he feared being seen by his boy as a cruel autocrat. He also feared having his boy associate his hand as an instrument of pain rather than love, in future, because the older lover made use of his hands a lot when he was making love to his boy.
The boy, let's just call him 'Cory' for reference here, had been informed of my role and had consented to being disciplined. He had no other choice. It was that or he and the older lover parted ways. I arrived at their home about sunset and found Cory tied up to the bedposts.
"I have to restrain him sometimes," Geoff, my client, explained. "Otherwise he'd be at that club, being devoured as visual fodder."
I sized up Cory for personal interest. Blond, blue-eyed, long limbs and long digits on both his hands and bare feet, and wonderful abs, he was shirtless and his tight spandex shorts left me little necessity to speculate on his assets. He had a huge basket on his crotch and as soon as I ordered him released and stood him in front of me, I removed his cycle shorts. I yanked down his underwear next, doing it forcefully to serve up some pain. I left his jock somewhere between his thighs and knees. Just as I had expected, Cory had a large penis, about five inches when flaccid and four more when hardened. It was fairly elongated as all nine inches had sprung upright from beneath his thick black bush.
I went into business quickly. I was charging by the hour and didn't believe in wasting time to earn a few more bucks.
I began Cory's discipline with an OTK hand spanking. I warmed up his cute round bottom good and when he was sobbing somewhat, I completely ripped off his underwear to free up his legs. I spread these apart with one of my legs crooked around one of his. I walloped his buttocks some more until he was wailing desperately.
I stopped the spanking. I was done with this first stage of Cory's discipline. But it was only the beginning. I pulled Cory up and then delivered him to a corner of the bedroom so that he could really have time to feel the sting in his bottom. I knew it was there. I didn't leave a boy's bottom red without leaving some sting in it as well.
A quarter of an hour later, I ordered Cory to approach me. I asked him why he thought I was here.
"To spank me," he replied, still sniffling and embarrassed that he'd been spanked as a grown up.
I asked him why he was being spanked.
"Geoff doesn't approve of my dancing naked at clubs and he can no longer handle me," he answered. "Maybe you can put a stop to my obsessive compulsion."
"Yes," I said, "I can do that. But only if you want it to stop as well."
Cory nodded. I wasn't convinced but that didn't matter. I had predicted already that reforming Cory's attitude was going to be a long haul with regular spanking, perhaps four days a week for many months, before progress might be seen.
I now told Cory to bring me the dining chair. Cory walked with halting steps to the dining room, turning his bottom toward me. His cheeks were a light shade of red and jiggling as he maneuvered his body clear of a worried-looking Geoff and me.
The chair brought in, Cory, Geoff and I converged round it. I clasped Cory's genitals in my hands. He grew hard once more, and so I spanked his penis lightly.
"You like this?" I asked mockingly. "You like having an audience admire your _c_o_c_k_, don't you?"
Cory nodded blushing.
"Well you know what, Cory?" I informed him. "I just happen to have a spare chastity belt that I've brought along. I think it'd be beneficial that you spend some time inside one until I feel you have been cured of your obsession."
Cory's jaws dropped. He looked to Geoff. Geoff smiled.
Cory looked about to cry. Cory loved masturbating himself besides stripping publicly. He was visibly concerned that the joy of indulging in yet another of his hobbies was about to be crippled.
I now draped Cory over the back of the chair. I ensured that he would not fall of it and then separated his legs to expose him to Geoff and myself. This was always embarrassing for a boy being spanked, to know that his private parts were all exposed.
Of course embarrassment was always a useful supplement to my brand of discipline.
I next lifted up the cane that had been resting on the top of the nightstand. Twenty harsh lashes were aimed in the general direction of Cory's buttocks. How Cory cried and ranted and screamed and pleaded in syncopated rhythm with the surf-like whispers of the cane. It was professionally satisfying to see those tears and hear his promises. It was personally very satisfying to see him receive those embraces later from his man. Geoff, who had been perched on the top of a bureau to obtain a picture-view of his boy, was so heated up from watching Cory's bottom being caned naked that he was craving to _f_u_c_k_ the living daylights out of him. He did just this, right before my eyes.
The men were still hugging when I interrupted Geoff. I handed him the chastity belt as a loan.
Cory took sudden flight. But I caught him and forcibly dragged him into the bathroom. I pinned him down, completely naked, on the bathroom tiles and ordered Geoff to bring me some ropes. These I used to tie Cory's wrists to a sewage pipe and then I had Geoff lift up his boy's legs. This raised up his long legs and tightly-clenched buttocks. I retrieved my cane and lashed Cory's feet a few times and whipped his bottom once more. My cane didn't spare his testicles, either. "Remember this the next time you dare to try to run away," I scolded him. Of course he had howled and pleaded at the brutality.
Heeding Cory's desperate promises to be a good boy, I relaxed my arm and had Geoff press down on his spread ankles. I quickly slopped shaving cream onto Cory's crotch, covering his pubic hair thickly and completely, and then with razor-sharp deftness, I removed all of his pubic hair, everywhere here and then also the hair around his anus.
While Cory remained restrained, his body hair denuded completely, I had him bend over the tub next, his caned bottom facing me, and then subjected him to an enema. It was a water-base enema that Cory had to endure for half an hour. Bending over with the enema nozzle deeply anchored in his sphincter, his anus all exposed, and the nozzle evenly sluicing the bag's contents into his intestines, Cory gasped and retched with utter loathing for this trespassing of his sacred portal and body's functions. At this time, I recovered my camera – I always carried one around on my jobs – and created some beautiful keepsakes of my latest boy being disciplined. My bookcase at home had, for some time now, been chockfull of pictorial annals of my mash-boys, some in mid, others post, punishment poses.
As soon as the enema had accomplished its mission, I released Cory and stood him under the showerhead. "You may go," I told him, and all his fluids gushed out of his orifices, his dunghole and _c_o_c_k_. Cory was in such discomfort afterward that I encouraged Geoff to soothe his boy. He did this for half an hour, coddling Cory on his shoulder.
Not long after I delivered Cory to the bedroom and taught Geoff to put the chastity belt on the boy.
"Put it on him every evening on his return from classes and remove it just before he goes to school," I told Geoff. "But first, give him an enema before he's locked in. I'll leave it up to you to decide whether Cory would benefit from being belted in on weekends. I shall be here to continue Cory's discipline four times a week. I want to see the belt on him every time I get here."
"Please," Cory cried tearfully, while I supervised Geoff in the restraining of his genitals inside the belt, "don't do this, sir. I'll change. I won't ever even look upon the club again. I promise."
I ignored the crying boy. They, all the boys I have spanked and am still spanking, would make every sort of promise they could think up to get out of even a smidgeon of inconvenience. Playing into their tears and pleas was always a mistake and would thwart a spanking man's mission.
"When I'm convinced that you really and truly are cured of your obsession, this aspect of your discipline will be suspended," I told Cory.
"But how will I use the toilet?" Cory sobbed while Geoff locked up the belt and retained the key in his trouser pocket.
"You'll be allowed to pee only after Geoff has removed the belt," I answered. "As for BM, this is still possible."
I turned the boy around and thrust my forefinger into his anus. "You see," I explained, "there's a hole designed into the back of the belt to allow your BM to be done unhampered. Geoff, as you can see, you'll still be able to _f_u_c_k_ your boy silly 24/7."
The belt in place the way it should, Cory was forced to stand up straight. I assessed his demeanor. Naked from top to toe except for the belt around his groin, he looked forlorn, in captive but absolutely beautiful. I took out my camera again and made more pictures.
It's been four months now. I'm still seeing Cory and spanking him, but my sessions with him have recently been reduced to twice weekly. He's making progress. The chastity belt? That eventually grew on Cory, as I expected. As if he had been given a glimpse at satori, Cory had learned that there was advantage in those hours of being in abstinence. It heightened his drive during _s_e_x_ with Geoff. Ironically, what was a loathing became a passionate kink, and so the belt became Geoff's new strategy to wean Cory of his obsession for strip dancing. If Cory were a good boy, he would be rewarded with time inside the belt. There's been no indication of diminishing marginal utility as far as Cory's voluntary resignation to being belted up.
It's a great job what I get to do. I derive a sense of satisfaction supplying a service that, thanks to the Internet, is steadily gaining tremendous acceptance, credibility and commercial demand.
Makes me sleep very well at night.'
from the journal of Brunelleschi, 1998.
(Copyright, JRK, January, 2000.)