For those next seven nights, with this inevitable postponement, Julian decided himself he wanted to stay over at my place and stick around. OK, it made some transportation logistical issues, but never mind I let him. His choice! He was fine and back to normal health in time for Monday, but still, yes, he seemed quieter especially later during the evenings now. Otherwise he was as "up" and cheerful as he had been that first day I saw him sleeping outside my back porch. During the days he was off at the Institute, but still, the only thing I noticed different, as it again got closer to Saturday night, was that late evenings he was now always stripping down to just his white briefs and lounging around in them regardless of whether he was watching TV, reading, sitting outside on the porch, or just flopped on the couch or the floor. Yes, the paddle he had made was still sitting there prominently; and with his name lettered on it finely, there was absolutely no question as to what it was for. Julian was going to be paddled.
On a couple of occasions I noticed Julian looking wistfully at that paddle there. He knew he was going to get it with it Saturday night. It rested there, his name on it, ready to do its duty when it was time for his briefs to come down and for him to get his first paddling. And it was getting closer to Saturday night. It would not be long now before his bare bottom would be over my knees to get paddled. I was looking forward to it, sure. Still, it was hard to tell what Julian was thinking as he stared at that paddle he had made to be used on him. Somehow still, with the look in his eyes, I could not help but think it had something to do with the fact that that paddle was soon to be put into service to paddle his own young bare bottom and help him finally cry his young heart out over my knees. Good therapy for a young man his age! Something he needed! He needed to get it all out. Julian's paddle would soon be a part of his life, bringing him both discipline and comfort, something Julian both welcomed and avoided. He knew it would be the beginnings of an unbreakable bond between us, but he also knew it would hurt. A boy's paddle is supposed to hurt and sting too! On some of those occasions, when I stood on the other side of the room and noticed him staring at it, it was clear he was now emotionally involved. His white cotton shorts were tending up from the inside as he lay quietly there staring at it.
I said nothing and made no comments.
Every boy needs to come to grips with this bond, his paddle, and the one man who is going to use it on him. In his own quiet and very personal way, Julian was doing just that.
Friday night he seemed especially tense and uptight. That night in the fitness center Julian seemed to hit those machines with a newfound vengeance that I had never seen in him before. I did my thing that evening and he did his. When we were both finished I offered to take him out for dinner, but he preferred to just go home and grab something light there. He almost seemed moody.
And that is what we did. Afterwards I was watching HBO until I realized he had sat down beside me on the couch and was leaning right up against my shoulder. We had both slipped out of work clothes and were a bit casual, but Julian had gone even further than that. He was down to just a long sleeved shirt and his Jockey white briefs. The movie was a good one but he did not seem to be paying it much attention. When I put my arm around him and brought him close against me, he rested his head against my chest while my hand was around his back and waist. It was not much later when I realized his briefs were again beginning to tent slightly. Though that movie was still interesting, Julian wanted some attention.
Briefs are inhibiting and tend to get in the way of a young man as free and open as Julian so I helped his _c_o_c_k_ out of them and then, seeing his response, slipped them down and off his body completely. Free and more natural now without his underwear, Julian was back close against my chest, leaning against me while my hand was on his bare bottom. He was firm and soaring when I finally pulled a cover up over both of us.
But Julian was not in a talkative mood, it seemed. He was almost sulking – something that in a normal week would have gotten him tugged across my lap and spanked but this week was not a normal one for him. I just held him close and suggestively patted his bare bottom in reminder of what was soon coming. His body felt as fine as it always did but he was clearly off thinking somewhere else. Regardless, at one point, Julian did venture a quiet question that seemed to have been a long time in coming.
"Am I gonna' get it with the paddle a lot, Cal?"
I hugged him and looked down at him there. Somberness showed in his big eyes looking up at me. He was trying to force a smile when I smiled back at his question. All his aggressive seeking a spanking from those first couple of days was gone now. He was now just a young man asking, looking for reassurance, and maybe even hoping. The only think that had changed was that he knew he was now subject to discipline from a paddle.
"I think that depends on you, boy," I purposively spoke as gently as I knew how to. Of course he would feel it sometimes if for no other reason than training a young man with a paddle always means he must feel it sometimes.
Julian knew nothing of that. Furthermore he did not need to know how often I might bare his young bottom to paddle it for him. His response was simply to hug me. He said nothing further. I enjoyed him in my arms, of course; but returned my own attention to the movie I still wanted to see. Nothing further was said. Nothing further needed to be said.
The next day, after all, was Saturday. Julian would be feeling his new wooden paddle soon enough across his bare ass. Really, there was nothing left to say. Both of us seemed to know that instinctively. Julian seemed resigned that Friday evening. Tomorrow night would be here soon enough and he was going to be paddled. I did nothing to increase his tension. He was increasing it quite enough all by himself. Finally Julian fell asleep with my hand on him and he slept soundly.
Though I rose early Saturday morning, it was probably close to eleven before Julian stumbled down to pour himself some OJ and coffee. We followed a normal Saturday kind of schedule and relaxed with both of us doing our own things and them some jogging together up the beach. Early evening that Saturday night I soaped him extensively. As he hugged me when he stepped out of the shower, I patted his ass and teasingly whispered in his ear, "Pretty soon, my boy. Time is getting close. You're going to get paddled, Julian." The singsong tone in my voice seems to both excite and scare him. His _c_o_c_k_ stood at high mast.
"I know, Sir," he responded.
"Are you ready for it, Julian?"
"Not really," he quickly replied, "but I want to get it over with and I know I want to feel it from you, Sir."
"That a boy!" I said still patting his bare wet buns that were to be the full and sole object of my attention later. "That a boy! We're gonna' make these sing for you for sure!"
His tight, firm buns clenched automatically in my hands, but he offered no resistance. He was ready to be paddled. He would comply. Julian would learn his lessons well from now on. Julian would indeed be a very good boy.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
We dressed a bit formally and went out for dinner, back to that restaurant over the water he liked so much. And we talked a lot too, about his dreams, about his future, a bit about his past; but not about things I would care to share.
After a long dinner, however, the waiter brought the check. Julian looked at it. It was time.
From that moment all the way back home Julian was silent again. I parked my car and we both got out. He followed me in the door. Somehow he seemed to be walking more slowly, even sheepishly, now. After all, he knew he was entering the house to get paddled. I shut the door behind him and locked it tight. He watched me throw the dead bolt across it. We were locked in together now and I was going to paddle him. I looked at him standing there, looking at me, waiting. Julian stood with his weight shifted on his right leg and his one hand holding his second hand's wrist directly over his belt buckle and the front of his slacks that were soon to be taken down. His hair was a bit over his one eye though his face had a blank look that showed concern about what was about to happen as I would paddle him. His hands in front of his slacks almost seemed to be trying to protect his slacks from being taken down and his private _c_o_c_k_ and balls displayed openly in front of me. I had seen him naked before, of course, many times, but tonight was somehow different for him. Tonight he would feel his paddle.
His face remained almost blank with his lips still parted as he continued to stand like that slightly away from me. Somehow he seemed to be in unbelief that this was happening. He looked so young like this! A young man subject to discipline often seems incredulous when it finally hits him that, yes, you have been perfectly serious with him in talking with him about this and you really are now going to take down his slacks and briefs and paddle him! His reactions at this point were really very, very typical.
He stood there looking back blankly at me. He was going to be paddled now. It was as if he still could not believe it was happening!
I walked over to him, took him into my arms and hugged him tightly, probably longer than usual. His head was soon on my shoulder . . . and I began to take down his slacks myself. Julian said nothing, nor did I, as he stood there while I removed them for him. He dropped his own hands as I simply took hold of his belt buckle, undid it and the protective buttons as well, zipped down the zipper, and held them up on him. After all, there was nothing left to say.
It was time to paddle Julian.
The straight back chair I would sit on to paddle the boy was already in the living area where I had put it earlier. It stood there waiting for its role in paddling the boy. It was firm and sturdy. The boy could grab and clutch its legs and flail his bare bottom over my knees all he wanted to when I sat on it and paddled him. It would hold us as I paddled him as it had often held us when I had spanked him before.
The doors and windows were shut. The curtains were drawn tight as well. The sounds of a boy being paddled, the crack of the wood across his bare ass, were to be kept private. This would be between us. Still, when paddled, a young man needed the freedom to cry, yell, and even scream as the paddle cracked across his bare ass. Most of all, a young man in this day and age, needed encouragement to get it all out while I paddled him. The paddle across his bare bottom would provide him the "encouragement" for sure, but only the four walls and I would see or hear his paddling. Would he be screaming and crying, flailing over my lap like a baby or accepting punishment more like the adult young man that he was? I would soon know but however he choose to respond to the paddle – as a baby, teenager, or an adult – it would be for only my eyes and ears to know. Would Julian need to be forced to accept his paddle across his bare bottom? Held firmly? I would soon know and was prepared for either, but whatever it would be kept within these four walls and confined here. Certainly for his first paddling, a young man needed privacy. Only one thing was absolutely certain now though: the paddling of Julian would proceed now.
Only a few candles lit the place this evening and cast an errie but gentle atmosphere over the room when I let go of his slacks and they fell to his ankles. His belt clanged when it hit the floor. The boy himself was now looking down at the floor. The front of his white briefs were expanding slowly.
It was time to paddle Julian.
I stepped back from him and sent to the hardback chair waiting for me there.
"Come here, boy!" I spoke clearly but firmly.
Julian looked at me from where he had been standing, waiting
"I said, 'Come here, boy!' It's time to paddle you."
Julian raised his face and looked back at me warily. Again his hands were folded over the front of his briefs as if to protect himself but this time he took those small two or three steps, shuffling with his slacks down around his ankles, and came to me freely to be stripped further and paddled soundly.
Some men, I know, would have quickly slapped him across his face for his hesitating and not having come immediately. Some would have said he had deserved it. It would have surprised him and no doubt caused a few quiet tears, but boys and men are all different. I did not slap him for his hesitancy, but instead I caressed his face and raised his face up to look directly at me. Yes, he looked concerned. And well he should be. His ass was about to be bared and he was going to be turned up, sunny-side over my knees to be paddled in spite of his age. That would be enough.
I would paddle him.
The room was very quiet.
Yes, he looked very concerned standing there in front of me with his hands still folded over his briefs in the front.
And, of course, that fine paddle he had made himself was right there too, still leading against the fireplace waiting for him, waiting until it was needed to crack across his bare bottom. It was needed now.
"Get me your paddle, boy." I told him as gentle as I knew how to say it clearly.
Still, Julian looked at me longingly, almost as if he was still hoping I would change my mind and not paddle him with it. Then he gave up, almost seemed to sigh and he hobbled those few steps still in his white cotton briefs over there and picked it up in his hands. He stood with his back to me. His buns were snugly attractive in those tight briefs. And he seemed to look at the paddle he had spent so much time making. Still, rather quickly he hobbled back and, without looking at me directly, handed it to me to paddle him with.
"Here, Sir. Paddle me."
I smiled at him. I would be happy to paddle him now. Julian was finally ready to be turned over and paddled.
I looked at him standing there before me. His slacks were crumpled at his ankles leaving his legs and thighs openly visible to my eyes. His long-sleeved dress shirt was opened and parted enough so his chest definition and abdominal muscles were clear too. The long shirttails did not offer him much protection from my eyes and he again stood nervously with his weight on one leg as his hands remained folded over the front of his white cotton briefs. He seemed nervous, cautious, and unsure.
I was in no hurry. My hand went under his shirt and tested the firm nipples jutting forth from his pecs. He seemed surprised but he hardly moved at all. Julian was ready. He knew better that to question anything. My hands would touch and feel as I wished. If he objected, he knew I might get a switch.
Instead Julian squirmed just a bit as I withdrew my hand and then reached down to push his clasped hands apart, away from his basket, and over to his sides while I tested the hardness of that tent-like erection jutting forth in his briefs. Julian felt good. My hand went under his brief. He was firm, hard, ready. His cotton-covered bottom was firm to the touch of my hands as well when I turned him slightly to look at his ass more closely. Those cotton Jockey's fit his buns like a second skin, but they would now need to come down to expose his bare bottom. No matter how nice his buns looked in those briefs, it was now time to bare them completely, strip him naked, and apply the paddle to this young man's white bare bottom firmly and thoroughly. The bare fine wood of the paddle would now need to be applied to this young man's bare firm bottom.
It was simply time for a good long paddling. And this young man would be paddled right now.
Consequently I sat his paddle on the floor beside me while I myself sat down on that straight backed chair. His eyes were still down, not looking at me. His head remained bowed also. He stood there in his briefs, his slacks around his ankles. I parted his dress shirt further, undoing all the buttons, and took him by the arm. Now I helped Julian over my lap so that his buns were right up high over my lap – perfectly positioned for slapping both of those buns and his bottom now raised nice and high "up" for me! I made sure he was comfortable . . . or at least as comfortable as possible under these somewhat strained circumstances. A paddling often takes more time and care than a spanking. He was about to find out why?
Julian's white, cotton covered ass looked good right there as he held it up high ready to get it paddled for him. He needed paddled now and he would be spending more time in this position in the future whenever he required it. A young man always is more obedient when he knows what the consequences of non-obedience feels like! Julian's slacks were down around his ankles. His white cotton briefs would soon follow. He would always be paddled on his bare bottom. It was simply what a young man needed. He needed to know that for sure . . . and he needed to know what it felt like! Thus I would paddle him and paddle him for real!
Julian's young bottom was always a pleasure to spank. His movements over my lap were always clear indications of my reaching him. To paddle Julian's bare, naked buns for him this time in this age old and time tested ritual of bonding a young man to obedience was sure to be no less enjoyable for me, though probably less so for him. Nevertheless, paddle him I would.
But it was time.
When I began to easy my fingers in the elastic top of his briefs, he tensed his whole body, but slowly I tugged and pulled his white cotton briefs down off his buns and then completely all the way down. His young bare bottom was again there over my lap, bare, ready, his buns clenched tightly, and waiting for me. Again his bare bottom was exposed for me. Between his buns and at the base of his balls, the skin was baby soft, responsive, and felt very good, but it was his bare bottom that would be my attention right now. It was about to receive some nice, but thorough, training. Julian had previously experienced that attention from my right hand whenever I had spanked him. Tonight would be different. Tonight it would be from his paddle.
Julian's _c_o_c_k_ was steel hard this time as I rested my free hand on his bottom. His buns were clenched tightly as his dropped briefs exposed them bare over my knees. He held them clenched with the hand I usually spank him but now they were waiting for attention. I pulled those briefs and his slacks completely down and off him. He lifted his legs straight to assist me. His brown penny loafers clanked at they hit the floor. I then tossed them casually aside, discarded. He would not need them tonight.
Next I pulled off and discarded both socks.
Sometimes when I spanked Julian I had left his trousers and briefs on to bind him slightly at his knees or even his ankles. This time, however, I wanted Julian's feet and legs completely free to squirm and flail at will over my knees in natural response to my paddling him. Yes, the paddle across your boy's bare buns hurts, especially given its surprisingly stinging nature the first time. Julian did not know it yet, but the kiss of his wooden paddle on his now bare buns would propel him to new feelings of both joy and pain but also of ecstasy. The ability of his legs to move and flail freely would help him experience it all more naturally.
But Julian's legs being free would also make it more difficult for me to control him over my lap and continue paddling him once I took him into this, especially as he was untrained and new to the feel of his paddle; but I was confident I am large and strong enough to hold him over my knees and give him what he so badly needed and wanted. No boy, no matter how trained, can remain perfectly still over his man's knees when it is time to get paddled, especially if his man knows how to paddle him and paddle him intimately.
With his underwear briefs now also tossed aside, Julian hung there completely naked from the waist down, balancing over my lap, my free hand now in his hands as he held it to his face for comfort. I pulled up his tan colored dress shirt far up over his shoulders leaving his strong but slight back bare and naked. That shirt clumped over his shoulders was all he would be allowed to have on while I paddled him tonight.
Right now Julian's bare bottom was high up over my lap, waiting for me to paddle him. His bare buns were soft, yet tight as I felt them over my knees as I had so many times in the past. The soft flesh deep between his buns seemed to tingle as I ran my fingers over them. He was clenching them, but only a little, no more so that before when I had often spanked him in the past. My fingers there caused him to tingle a bit and I knew his emotions and feelings were highly sensitive to my hands there anyway. The fact that he was about to taste the paddle had not seemed to matter. I knew his _c_o_c_k_ was soaring. I separated his thighs and legs that were stretched out behind him and guided him in pointing his toes inward as I always do to help prevent clenching. As obedient as always, Julian flinched as I touched his buns unexpectedly and then responded normally as I adjusted his hard _c_o_c_k_ and balls to insure they were protected while I slapped his nice bare bottom for him and paddled him.
Some boy's buns are made for the application of the paddle. Julian's certainly were. They were pleasantly tight and firm. In short, they were absolutely flawless, etched tight and crystal white. His buns were also nicely highlighted by the tan lines distinctly caused by the snug Speedo's he had been wearing. Boys never seem to realize that while those tan lines are attractive, the clear crystal pure whiteness of the buns thus revealed when his Speedo's are pulled off cannot help but draw your attention to a good set of buns ready and worthy of many uses. Julian's needed paddled and were especially attractive. It was easy to see how, over time, they had become so sensually eroticized. Julian loved my hand on them and the power my hands always brought to the occasion. His full _c_o_c_k_ could not have been any stronger testimony to that as it responded to the touch of my hand and fingers on his bare buns and between his thighs to test out the base of his balls as I took him first to please with the line to pain to be drawn later. That _c_o_c_k_ would no doubt go the other way while I paddled him, but afterwards the touch of my hand on his hot buns, or deep between is thighs, would immediately again bring it up strong, I was sure. It always did.
"This spanking is going to hurt, Julian," I spoke to him softly.
"I know, Sir."
"But you know it's something you need to experience and feel anyway,""
"I know, Sir. I don't want it to happen, but I want you to do it all at the same time. I can't explain it. I just do."
"Discipline is discipline. It's always meant to teach you something, boy. I'll use it to guide you for a long time to come. Tonight, it's just something you need to feel and feel it for real, but it will be what you will get when you are not obedient. It's going to hurt and you're going to cry, but I'll be right here and continue to hold you and keep holding your hand to help you through it . . . . Take this lesson seriously and let's both hope I don't have to paddle you too often."
"Agree. I understand why you got to paddle me, and I can't get it out of my mind that it's gonna happen either. I keep thinking about it all week! I want to feel it from you. OK, I know I need to and I've known it for a long time too, if I'm going to be honest; but I'm afraid it's going to hurt too much."
"Maybe, but I'll help you through it. Keep holding my other hand and I'll stay with you. I don't want to see these buns clenching either, remember?"
"Yes, Sir, yes, Sir. . . I'm trying. . ."
"Forget about 'trying.' Let yourself go. Your paddle is meant to hurt and help you cry and get it all out, but above all it's meant to teach you that this paddle is always going to be around for me to use anytime you disobey, so if you don't want it again, make sure you listen carefully and obey right away, son, 'cause it's always going to be here to use on you."
"Understand and I hope I don't get it too often, Sir. . .."
"You feel it on your buns, boy?" I moved the paddle across his bare buns and between his legs to help him get used to it and increase his tension about what was bout to happen. He tried his best to hold still, but with his bare ass about to get paddled, he just could not now. His buns were tight, pure, raised high and naked over my lap to get the paddle.
"Please help me, Sir. Not too hard, please. It's my first time!"
"You about ready to feel your paddle, boy?"
"Please, please, not too hard, Sir."
"It'll be as hard as you need it. You ready, son?"
The paddle in my hand teased his buns as I prepared him. It was clear his body was tense and ready now. It was equally clear his young _c_o_c_k_ was hard as a rock between my thighs and ready too."
Julian was clearly concerned now. Still he tried to maintain a straight attitude. "Up to you, Sir. But I'm sure . . . please, it doesn't have to be so hard now. It'll be up to you."
"That's right, boy. I'll be around and we'll make these buns back here tingle for you anytime you need it." He squirmed more. Sure, my hand was on his buns now, feeling them.
"Yea, I want you to paddle me and I want to feel what it's really like to know I gotta' really be open you or else."
"You got it. While I'm paddling, you aren't going to feel that good about it, but yea, it's just going to be from me."
"I know. Make me really give into you. I want that. I didn't think I wanted that when I first came, but I know I want that now for sure. I know I'm your boy, Sir."
I continued playing with his buns, fingering their softness in some places while appreciating their firm elsewhere. His _c_o_c_k_ was hard. Under his balls my fingers pressed gently and he responded urgently. His bare body over my knees flexed in my hands automatically though he was submissively obedient to my touch. Julian's naked body was mine in my hands and lay out, hung over my knees for my attention. In spite of his tension and hopes to get this spanking over with, I was in no hurry at all. A very special young man's bare body was spread over my knees for me to finger, play with and enjoy as I wished. Sure, he would be spanked and would soon grind over my knees, but for the moment he would remain hanging over my lap for my pleasure. I took my time. My hands and my fingers went over him at will. He accepted them anywhere I chose to place them for as a "boy" he knew the meaning of obedience and submission. In addition, Julian knew the paddle would strike at any moment but for the moment he hung there, accepting my hand on his body and waiting, waiting for my discipline, to feel his own paddle, to be taken across that fine line where pleasure meets pain.
The first time a boy gets paddled it needs to be a meaningful experience. Julian's would be. The paddle would bring his tears any times I wanted them. His bare bottom would be make scarlet as he would soon jerk and wiggle to avoid that paddle. Still, it was a shame to have to make these pure buns so crystal white and pure turn so red and hot anyway, but it is just what a young man needs sometimes.
Julian had come a long way since that first morning when he was sleeping outside, beside my back porch. He still fancies those Jockey stretch rib's briefs that fit him so snuggly when I let him keep them on and his playfulness was still there, but he was more secure now and had begun also wearing cotton low-rise bikini briefs that showed him even better. Certainly he was valued and respected no matter what he wore. That auction seemed ages ago now. He was no longer a prize to be bid for for a fleeting evening, but rather a young man who had accepted himself in a lifestyle that reflected respect but in the context of discipline that was both firm and dependable. He lay over my lap now waiting. His long tight legs extended far down from his bare bottom and barely were just touching the floor now with his toes. Now it was time to introduce him to his paddle.
Julian hung there, over my knees in the dimly lit room. He was waiting to be paddled. The candles flickered, but it was stone vault silent in that room as he lay over my knees. There were no sounds at all. There was only a slight saffron smell in the night air. Somehow it added as I raised his paddle. Let him wait.
The first crack of his new paddle landed across both buns squarely. He flinched, jerked forward, and clenched his bottom automatically and tightly while trying to escape it by sliding more up over my knees. The moment the paddle landed his grip on my hand that he was holding turned to vice-like tight. It had not been a hard swat at all, just a soft flick of the wrist to get his attention started. I had sharply stung his bare bottom with no imminent warning . . . and, yes, he responded!
So-called "rapid fire" paddle away hard and furiously is not necessary on a new fine boy, especially on one like Julian. Bring him into this one slowly, gently, help him to experience that fine line between pleasure and pain and ultimately teach him how to appreciate his own care while welcoming guidance and correction. Over my lap now he would learn that now.
Julian moaned but only from the surprise of its first feel. I held the paddle snuggly against and across his buns and when I finally removed it, the mark left by the paddle was distinctly there.
I gave Julian's bare bottom another slap, slightly lower on the more soft and fleshy parts of his buns, and, again, held it there to let the stink sink in. And I talked to him and reminded him of things as I began to paddle him. My voice was meant to help him through it as well as to offer comfort. This was not a "beating" in any sense of the word. This was merely a bonding between a boy and his paddle over the knees of the man he now trusted enough to give himself to. Just a first introduction to a good old-fashioned spanking for a young man across my knees . . . with his paddle.
His grip on my hand seemed to tighten even more, his legs jerked up high and he moaned now quietly.
One slap of the paddle, then another, over his bare bottom where he needed it and where it was unanticipated. No rhythm, no timing, just a young man held tightly over my knees with his bare bottom naked and exposed for a paddling. The paddle continued to land firmly across his bun causing him to jerk, but his hands holding my left hand to his face seemed to be gripping me more and more tightly and almost painfully by now. Julian's bare bottom was rosy now, all over, no bruises, no marks, just well rosy and hot to the touch as I paddled him. Every time the paddle landed he responded, but, so far, quietly only showing its intensity by the way he was gripping my hand. I continued to take him to that fine like where pleasure meets pain, then I would pull back, then take him slightly over. Again and again I took him there.
Julian's long semi-muscular legs and naked thighs stretched out from his rosy, now hot, mounds that I was intent on paddling. The sting on the paddle on his buns immediately caused his legs to jerk back and up. The mere touch on the paddle on the top of his thighs or between them to separate them further caused even more emotional reactions from his bare body and in his voice. When my hand could separate them or just touch him there, his reactions were clear and visible. No boy likes his thighs slapped, let along to feel the paddle there even if it never actually hits him. Julian was no exception. Yet, the upper thighs and inner parts are very sensitive in training a boy. It works. Try as Julian might, and for sure he was trying, he could not help but responding and flailing his long naked legs over my knees while I paddled him slowly. He wiggled and moved them while I paddled him.
Yes, I paddled him slowly but also very thoroughly. He clenched my free hand hard and continued to hold it against his face, but it was his fine bare bottom that held my attention now. Julian's paddle was turning his buns rosy, then red, and all over. Although I was not paddling him rapidly or even forcefully, the sting from the flicks of my wrist just before I brought the paddle down against his buns was working. He was jerking forward, helping, even beginning to groan. Just a boy getting paddled, that was all. Easy does it. The paddle patted his buns and he felt the wooden smooth surface against them pushing them forward too. Then he felt that sting and jumped again. Sometimes I rested the paddle and let my hand go under him applying pressure where I know it would increase his tension to that very thin line of pleasure and pain. He groaned further at that fine line. Then the paddle would need to land again across his now rosy buns. His paddling continued.
Julian clutched my free hand and his grip intensified like a vice. My hand he held at his lips comforted him; my other hand paddled him. I guided him through it.
It took a while, some might say it too far too long, but when it happened Julian collapsed his body over my lap and began to cry those soft tears he had been holding back for centuries. Just a boy, finally getting paddled.
Yes, it took a long time, but ultimately I dropped the paddle and spanked him with my hand alone, insuring his bare bottom was red and well spanked all over. Julian's was nicely scarlet right then, not bruised, not marked, no skin broken, nothing like that . . . the young man had simply been paddled and spanked.
Finally, afterwards he cried it out on my shoulders. There was no more guessing what it would be like to be paddled. I took him in my arms, comforting him, then held him tightly as I calmed him slowly and deeply. His bare bottom was radiating intensive heat as my hands touched and held against his buns, but this time, now, Julian was perfectly still while I held him. He was accepting and let me comfort him as he needed to be until it was finally time and the bonding was ultimately completed.
There was no question Julian had been paddled that night. And there was also no question in either of our minds that I would not hesitate to paddle him again . . . anytime. But there was extensive trust and caring filled with respect on both of our parts and we both knew it.
Needless to say, Julian spent that night on his side and stomach but with his head on my chest and his arms around me as my one arm was around him. He had been paddles and comforted, calmed. There was not question but that he was very secure now. The evening had been along and emotionally intense one for both of us. When I finally stirred the next morning he was still in that same exact position sleeping soundly.
To be continued. . ..