This story is real. It happened on Halloween just before the trick-or-treaters were out and about and it happened pretty much as I have told it. Obviously, I have taken some literary liberties to make the story easier to read. But, the facts are real. My thanks to Bill! I know I'll be back over his knee again, and again, and again. I hope you enjoy the story as much as I did going through with the real thing.
The Real Thing
My fascination with corporal punishment germinated as a result of witnessing a spanking when I was only ten years old and nurtured over time by experimentation with my playmates. Of course, for many years I believed that I was alone in my desires and that somehow, I was different than everyone else. I just didn't know that there were others out there who shared my erotic interest in old fashion spanking. Later, when I did learn that there were others and had the opportunity to actually experience it for real, my proclivity was that of the disciplinarian. Receiving the punishment wasn't something that I thought to explore.
You must understand that the opportunity to interact with other males wanting punishment was quite limited where I grew up and lived until I was twenty one. The few experiences I did have were with younger males and that may have been part of the reason why I functioned exclusively in the role of the disciplinarian. It wasn't until I moved to a large metropolitan city and began meeting like minded individuals who were older, that I began to imagine actually receiving the discipline myself.
The only experience I'd had with being spanked wasn't the least bit pleasant. Growing up, I certainly had more than a few spankings and they were always extremely painful and very scary. My spankings were always a result of bad behavior with the paddle being applied with great gusto to my bare skin. The result was always the same, a lot of tears and an equal amount of very loud promises to do better.
I met my first adult spanking with much the same emotions I'd had as a child even though I knew it wasn't being done to inflict any serious pain. When he pulled me down into position across his knees and I was staring at the floor, the memories of my childhood spankings flooded my brain and I almost panicked. It took all of my courage to allow the spanking to actually occur. Afterwards, even though the spanking itself wasn't anything like what my father had given me, I had the same feelings of remorse and contrition. The only real difference was the spanking's effect upon the thing between my legs. It never got hard when I was spanked by my father.
After my first adventure with being on the receiving end of a spanking, I developed a keen interest for it and found myself staring at the floor quite often. My late night fantasies were also filled with visions of myself draped over someone's knee receiving a very severe spanking. The harder the spanking was in my dream, the more intense my orgasm was. Believe me, I wasted a lot of fluids while dreaming of being paddled.
At one point I became much less active in the real world experience of receiving spankings and moved to being disciplined only in my dreams. A good friend and an extremely capable top man that I knew inquired one day as to why I hadn't been coming to visit him as often as I once had for discipline. To my surprise, I couldn't answer his question because I didn't know why. It certainly wasn't because my interest had waned, if anything it had grown stronger. I simply was preferring to imagine being spanked rather than experiencing the real thing.
I've never been one to set back and let the world go by without becoming actively involved. I'm a doer, not a watcher. The realization that I had backed away from "doing" the spankings and only experiencing them in my fantasy world really concerned me and I did a lot of soul searching to understand why. It finally occurred to me that I had simply become bored with the real life version of being over someone's knee. That realization prompted even further thought and I asked myself what I really wanted out of being spanked. Slowly, over time, I realized that what I liked the most about being spanked were the emotions involved with the entire event. Fear, loss of control, and submission.
The boredom I'd had with spanking in real life, receiving as well as giving one, stemmed from the fact that I always knew the situation was controlled. The spanking wouldn't be too hard or continue for too long. Limits were to be expanded, of course, but never broken. Simply put, that wasn't what I fantasized about. In my nightly sojourn with my imagination and right hand, I dreamed of spankings that were controlled only by the spanker. I was spanked like I was as a child, with the intent to cause pain and not pleasure. Although, in my fantasies it certainly did both.
Deep down in side I really didn't want any control of my spankings. Not having any control and knowing I was going to get what ever the spanker dished out was the main attraction. I couldn't experience the fear of a spanking when the spanking wasn't something to be afraid about. The spanking I longed for was one that was just like I had as a child, real in every sense of the word. After thinking about it for a long time I decided to finally go and get the spanking I'd been dreaming about
Now I'm no fool, I understand that fantasy and reality are two entirely different things. A real spanking given by a loving and caring parent wouldn't be excessive or permanently injure the recipient. Something more might be real, but it certainly isn't a spanking. It's a beating and it is abuse. I want nothing like that. The real spanking I'm talking about still has to be administered with the restraint of a sane mind and that is why I chose the man to do it very carefully.
I first heard about Bill through a mutual friend and spanking enthusiast I'd met on-line. He was an older gentleman and was very experienced at spanking naughty little boys. Through e-mails Bill and I got to know each other a little bit and finally made the arrangements for me to crawl over his lap for a spanking. As it turned out, I really liked the guy and we talked for a number of hours to cement our friendship after he'd thoroughly warmed my backside. He proved to be an excellent disciplinarian and I found myself across his knee a regular basis after that. Bill wasn't the only man who'd spanked me in the past, but he was the only one I trusted enough to do it for real and I decided to ask him. I was confident that he would be willing to give me the spanking I was looking for and would do it without causing any serious injury or permanent damage to my butt. Now all I had to do was ask.
My hands were trembling as I typed the message on my computer making it difficult to hit the right keys. Slowly and deliberately I worked my way through the message knowing what it meant. I'd finally crossed a line that few willingly do and something told me I'd never go back. The discipline I was asking for wasn't going to be play or make believe. That old familiar feeling in my stomach appeared as I watched the message fill the screen, only this time it was much worse. That hollow and empty feeling was so intense that it almost hurt and I suddenly realized that my palms were sweating. By the time I hit the send button, my heart was pounding in my ears. But, the deed was done and now I was going to get the spanking I'd only had the courage to dream about.
In my message, after I explained the severity of the spanking I was asking him for, I suggested we stage the spanking on a video I'd sent him. Two boy's in the video were spanked by an older brother who made the spankings look very real. The swats were fast paced and firm enough to get a reaction from the boy, but the part that got to me was that they landed in the same place every time. The spanker wasn't trying to spread the swats out over the boy's entire butt, he centered them on the fleshy part just above the thigh from start to finish. Every time I see that video my heart goes out to the boy. I know first hand how much the pain intensifies with each swat and this boy gets about three hundred of them. It was my hope that Bill would conduct my spanking in the same manner.
A few days later I received an e-mail reply from Bill. Once again, my hands were trembling as I opened the message and read that he would be pleased to give me a discipline type spanking, one that would hopefully bring real tears to my eye's (I'd previously mentioned a desire to be spanked to tears.) He suggested that we start with the normal warm-up and then, just before I had to leave, finish with the discipline spanking I'd asked for. That hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach was almost overpowering as I agreed to the specific date and time for the spanking to occur.
It turned out that I had to wait for almost three weeks for the spanking. Schedule conflicts had to be worked out and a convenient time for both of us was difficult to arrange with our schedules. But as the agreed upon date closed in on me, my thoughts were increasingly turning toward the spanking and filling me with emotions so varied that I couldn't begin to explain them all. Certainly I was afraid of the spanking. After all, I'd never willingly gone that far before and I really wondered if I was going to be able to take what I'd asked for. Yet, for all the fear and apprehension I felt, the excitement that welled up every time I thought about being over his knee was almost overwhelming and I struggled to not over work the thing between my legs. The anticipation was almost more than I could bare.
At last the day arrived and began the early morning drive full of anticipation and nervous energy. For some strange reason, I felt like a little boy having to wait the entire afternoon for his father to get home to administer a dreaded beating. My hands on the steering wheel were damp with nervous sweat and I couldn't help but notice that my heart was beating faster than normal. Deep down inside I kept wondering if I could really go through with the deed and finally live out my fantasy. I wouldn't have long to wait to find out.
Several hours after the trip began, I found myself parked in front of Bill's home attempting to drum up the courage to get out of the car and knock on his door. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and began the journey I'd only dreamed about. Moments later, I was standing in Bill's living room exchanging pleasantries and getting reacquainted with the gentleman.
We talked easily for a while and even watched parts of a new spanking video to set the stage for the afternoon session. I'd almost forgotten why I'd come, when he asked, "Do you want to watch another video or get started with your spanking."
Suddenly, my stomach knotted up and I felt this lump form in my throat. "Well," I said, with an uncertain tone in my voice. "I suppose we'd better start with the spanking."
"OK," he said, smiling back at me. "I think we should start with me on the couch. You'll be more comfortable there."
In total silence, I lowered myself down across his knees and took a deep breath.
WHAP!
The first blow landed on the seat of my jeans and instantly I knew this was going be different than any spanking I'd ever had. The swat was hard and sent a sharp pain shooting through my system. "So much for the warm-up," I thought, struggling to keep from squirming of his lap. He'd begun this spanking much harder than anyone he'd given me before.
WHACK! SLAP!
The blows were fast and hard and he was concentrating on one spot in the middle of my backside. By the time the sixth blow landed, I was beginning to wonder if I would be able to take the spanking I'd asked for and was having a devil of a time keeping still. He just continued with the spanking, seeming not to notice or care about the distress I was feeling. All I could do was grit me teeth and ride out the storm as best I could.
After more than a hundred swats had landed on my posterior, he finally let me up to take a short break. Scrambling off his lap, I made my way to the safety of an easy chair and breathed deeply. "I think we'll do the next round with you in the wheelbarrow position," he said. "And I think we should use a few implements as well."
"Just what I need," I thought, still smarting from what he'd done with his hand. Clearing my throat, I managed to say, "the wheelbarrow position?"
"Your head will be on the floor and your butt will be in my lap," he explained. "It puts you in a great position to be spanked. I think you'll really like it.
He'd selected a leather paddle and a hairbrush to use on me during the next phase of my spanking. Looking straight at me, he said, "I want you to take off your pants and then I'll get you into position."
Slowly, but without hesitation, I unsnapped my jeans and let them drop to the floor. "Underwear too?" I asked, wanting to be sure.
"Underwear too." He said flatly.
Moments later, I stood before him completely naked except for the white T-shirt I still wore. The coolness on my legs and midsection felt good as I stood there waiting for instructions.
"Now," he said. "I want you to put your head on the pillows and put your legs up on the arms of the chair."
I managed to put my head on the two pillows he'd placed directly in front of him on the floor and struggled to get my legs up where he wanted them. Taking my legs in his hands, he helped me get them into position, and said, "now scoot your butt back over my lap as far as you can go."
Surprisingly, once I was actually where he wanted me to be, it was rather comfortable and it certainly put my upturned butt in a perfect position to be paddled. Having my legs worked down between his body and the arms of the chair made certain I wouldn't be squirming very much no matter how hard he spanked me. Of course, I couldn't help but wonder how ridiculous I must have looked at that moment and I felt an intense level of embarrassment knowing I was laying there with my legs wide open exposing my most private place to his view. That feeling lasted all of thirty seconds and completely evaporated the instant I felt the leather paddle land squarely on my bare skin.
SMACK! WHACK!
The swats came fast and furious leaving me little time to react from one before the next landed. Surprisingly, there wasn't a great deal of pain, even though he was putting some strength into the swats. The paddle itself wasn't heavy enough to cause much pain and actually produced a very pleasant feeling.
WHACK! SLAP! SMACK!
Over and over he brought that paddle down onto my exposed skin, giving me ten swats in one place before moving to another. I tried to count the number of swats but lost track after fifty or so and just laid there while he slapped my ass with that paddle.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, this feeling started stirring deep down inside me. I wasn't sure at first what was happening and thought I was about ready to erupt with an orgasm, but it felt different than that somehow. It had to be something else, after all, I wasn't even hard. It couldn't be an orgasm. The feeling grew more intense each time that paddle made contact with my bare skin and within seconds, a rippling wave of muscle contractions started at my feet and slowly progressed up through my body. Once the feeling reached my head, it started back down and centered in my _c_o_c_k_ and balls. I just laid there, involuntarily humping his lap, as wave after wave of muscle spasms wormed their way through my body. All the while, he slammed that paddle down onto my unprotected butt with a vengeance.
I'd gotten lost in the feeling coursing through my body and lost complete track of how many swats he'd given me with that paddle. I'd never felt anything quite like what I was experiencing at the moment, and I didn't want it to end. Looking back on it, I'm sure that I would have shot a load of my seed onto his lap if he'd continued to spank me with that leather paddle much longer than he did. Unfortunately, he suddenly changed implements and renewed my spanking with the hairbrush.
Needless to say, the hairbrush produced an intense burning sting when it collided with my bare butt. By the time the second swat landed, the muscle spasms had dissipated and I was left feeling empty. Only a slight tingling sensation in the tip of my _c_o_c_k_ remained of the wonderful sensations that had been racing through my system. That, and the hot burning feeling the hairbrush was causing on my ass. In spite of my legs being somewhat controlled, I began to wiggle my butt in a feeble attempt to get away from the business end of the brush. Bill was really laying it on and I was struggling for all I was worth.
SMACK! SMACK! WHACK!
Normally, I don't make a lot of noise when I'm being spanked. I usually lay there stoically taking the beating that is being administered. This time however, as Bill put some strength into his right arm, I began to sing like a choir boy.
SMACK!
"Ahhh...."
WHACK!
"Oooooo...."
WHAP!
"Arrrrr....."
Once again, Bill was giving me about ten swats in one place before moving the blows to another unprotected spot on my butt. Bill seemed not to notice, or care, about the noise I was making. He kept slamming that hair brush down onto my wiggling fanny and white hot pain shot up my back and into my brain. Just when I thought I couldn't take much more, he abruptly stopped and said, "Let's take a little break before I give you the punishment spanking."
I slowly managed to free myself from the awkward position I'd been in and struggled to my feet. All I could do was collapse in the chair gasping for air, while Bill went to get us both something to drink. My mind was still trying to grasp the feelings that had been running through my body when I looked down and saw the large drop of clear pre-cum that had found it's way to the tip of my flaccid _c_o_c_k_.
Now, I never get hard during a spanking and have never actually had an orgasm while over someone's knee. So this was something new. True enough, I still hadn't gotten hard, but the telltale signs of the pre-cum told me something had happened. I'd gotten as close to cumming during the spanking as I could have without actually doing it. In a way I almost felt cheated that he'd stopped before I could experience what I'd so often read about, but then I knew that the spanking had only just begun. The remainder of my spanking, I knew, was going to be the real thing.
Bill had just handed me a glass of ice water when the phone rang. He took the call and quietly talked with the person on the other end of the phone. Not wanting to feel like I was eavesdropping, I got up and went into the bathroom to use the facilities. He was still on the phone when I came back and so I sat quietly sipping my ice water. I knew my punishment spanking was next on the agenda and I suddenly wanted to be hard when it started. Closing my eye's and imagining myself draped across he knee for the spanking to come, I slowly worked my right hand on my soft _c_o_c_k_ and felt it swelling in size.
Suddenly, Bill turned from the phone to face me, "This is a friend of mine from Chicago that is into spanking," he said. "He wants to listen to you getting spanked if that is alright?"
I'd had a number of people watch while I was spanked before, but I'd never had anyone just listen. "It might be interesting" I thought, before saying, "OK."
"Let's go into the bed room where we'll be closer to the phone," Bill said, as he picked up a leather strap he calls the "slapper."
Minutes later, I was draped over the bed with the phone laying about a foot from my ass while Bill smacked me with the "slapper." At first, even though the pain was intense, I took the beating without making any noise. Bill had other ideas, however, and really laid it on with all his strength.
SMACK! WHACK!
"Arrrr.....!"
WHAP!
"Ohhhh....!"
Bill let me have about twenty hard swats, which left me writhing on the bed, before he suddenly stopped to pick up the phone. "Did you hear that?" he said into the receiver.
I couldn't hear what the person said on the other end, but Bill dropped the phone and immediately returned to spanking my ass. I was suddenly wiggling and squirming again and making more noise for the man on the phone. Bill picked the phone up after giving me about thirty swats and began chatting with his friend again.
"Here," he suddenly said, handing me the phone. "He wants to talk with you."
"Hello," I said, gasping for air.
"Are you really being spanked?" A voice said.
"Yes," I admitted. "He really laid into me."
We talked briefly about the spanking, then he asked, "What are you doing now?"
"Trying to get my courage up for the discipline spanking that is coming next," I answered truthfully. Not sure I could go through with it.
"Oh, wow,!" the voice said. "I wish I could see that."
Before I could answer, Bill took the phone and told the man that it was time for my REAL spanking. Putting down the phone, he turned to me and said, "I think we should go back out to the couch and give you the spanking you've asked for."
Not waiting for a response, he quickly left the room and I struggled to follow. Taking the leather paddle he'd used earlier, I said, "I want you to use this, OK?"
"Alright," he said, "Get over my lap."
Seconds later I was draped across his legs waiting for the main event to begin. Bill wasted no time and immediately began pummeling my butt with the paddle. I had expected a sudden explosion of pain and had braced myself for the worst, unfortunately, it didn't come. The paddle was just to light and wasn't producing much more than a slight sting. After about twenty swats, I said, "Wait a minute." Getting up from his lap, I quickly said, " that paddle isn't going to work."
Looking around on the couch, I immediately saw the "slapper" and handed it to him. "We'd better use this," I said, and quickly crawled back across his knee.
I'd already had experience with the "slapper" and I knew this spanking was going to hurt like hell. Bracing for it, I took a deep breath and my ass suddenly exploded in white hot pain as he slammed it onto my outstretched butt. Bill wasn't fooling around and was determined to give me what I'd asked for. Putting all his strength into the blows, he began to beat my ass for real.
I expected it to hurt. But, this was more than I imagined and I started howling with the first blow. Again, Bill didn't seem to care about the noise I was making and continued to slam that thing down onto my flaming ass. Over and over he brought it down and I reacted to the explosion of pain from my butt. I did my best to keep from writhing off his lap and take the spanking like a man.
Just then, he stopped spanking me for a brief moment, and I was just about to tell him to stop when he suddenly started in again. Before I could say anything, my ass erupted into flames again and all I could do was arch my back and howl. Asking him to stop wasn't possible.
True to his word, Bill was spanking me for real, just like my dad did when I was little boy. Deep down, I knew he was trying to get me to the point of crying. We'd talked about that before and I'd told him that was my ultimate fantasy, to be spanked to tears. At the moment though, I was too busy to think about crying. It was all I could do to cope with the pain shooting up from my ass.
It had been my intention to mentally count the number of swats he gave me during this part of my spanking. For some reason, knowing how many swats someone gets during a spanking excites me, and I really wanted to know how many I could take. Of course, counting went out with the second swat as I struggled with the intense pain. Still, Bill didn't stop spanking me until after I'd had over a hundred swats and I'd finally begged him to stop.
I just slid off his lap onto all fours on the floor gasping for breath. There was no way I could have stood up because my body was shaking and I didn't have the strength to get my legs under me. I'd just gotten through my first experience as an adult with a REAL spanking and it had left me out of control of my body. All I could manage to do was to breathe.
In spite of the spanking I'd already endured, I knew it wouldn't be what I'd asked for until I'd been spanked with the hair brush. That is what I'd asked Bill to spank me with in my first e-mail. If I quit before I'd had the brush, I knew I'd feel like I chickened out or something. So, before I had time to even catch my breath, I told him, "Get the hair brush."
Without saying a word, he reached for that dreaded brush and brought it down on my ass. Like before, the pain shot up my ass like it was on fire. There I was, on my hands and knee's being smacked with the hair brush. The pain in my ass was bad, but not as bad as what the hardwood floor was doing to my knee's and I asked Bill to stop. Moving back to the couch, Bill resumed the spanking. Finally, I could take no more and asked him to stop.
Once again, I slid to the floor on my hands and knee's and tried to catch my breath. The spanking hadn't brought me to tears, and I almost felt disappointed for Bill. I knew that was what he'd wanted and it didn't happen. But, getting me to cry while I was being spanked wasn't something that happened even as a child. That usually happened afterward when I was feeling sorry for myself. Still, the spanking had certainly been everything I'd ever fantasized about and it was the worst (best) spanking I'd ever had as an adult. It may have been more than anything I'd ever gotten from my dad.
Eventually, I managed to stand up and look at Bill. "That was the hardest spanking I've ever had," I said, still gasping for air. Both hands immediately moving to my ass, trying to rub the fire out.
"You took a very hard spanking," Bill said, grinning. "I'm proud of you for asking for the brush."
"What does my butt look like?" I said, promptly heading for the bedroom and the full length mirror.
I just stood there for the longest time staring at the image of my ass. I couldn't believe how red it was. A dark purple bruise had formed along the right side of my butt, just next to the crevice that separated my cheeks, and another on the lower portion of the left side. Somehow, looking back at my reflection in the mirror, I knew I'd crossed some line. Deep down, I knew I'd never go back either. My next spanking would be just as real as the one I'd just experienced and what's more, I was already looking forward to it.
Stepping back into the living room to get dressed, I said, "I don't know if you've ever spanked anyone harder than that before, but if you did, I pity them."
Bill just laughed. "I thought you might get to tears, but it didn't happen did it?"
"No," I answered. "You probably have to start out with the punishment spanking from the get go without any warm up at all to get me to that point."
"Next time," he said, grinning. "We'll try doing that."