It was back in the mid-80s. A mail order 'm2m discipline' clearing house called THE WOODSHED had a fairly wide circulation. We advertised, we read, we wrote to POBs, not URLs, we talked about IT in great detail, IT being a 'Trip To The Woodshed'. Plain and simple, no fooling around, no acting out silly roles, no bull, just a couple of hours of Real Bareassed Spanking between too guys who understood eachother. Most of the senders and receivers got some sort of satisfaction just from the letters, but a few, maybe 30 or so a month, actually managed to arrange sessions with their counterpart, be it 'Badboy' or 'Strict Stepfather'. I know this from corresponding with both camps, as well as firsthand experience as a 'Badboy', getting it but good, from a 'Stepfather' who warned me right from the first letter that I was going to get my ass whipped, sooner or later.
Yes, he would be more than glad to put me over a sawhorse, wrists and ankles tighlty bound, for 50 or so with a 4" wide, 2 foot long paddle. No warmup, full swing, no mercy for 50, no less, no more, and 5 extra every time I tried to talk him out of it. We knew from the beginning that we understood eachother, as ugly as it was, and that we HAD to get together, sooner or later. We freely admitted that we both had a darker side, one that we were not proud of, his of truly enjoying the administration of corporal punishment, mine of wanting to be the victim.
A number of letters went from POB to POB, making it clear that there would be no bleeding, no _s_e_x_, just a red, well-whipped ass. The big day finally came. We tried the sawhorse scene first, in his attic. After 2 wrists and 1 ankle, I chickened out, saying that I really wasn't read for it and that I had fantasized much more during our correspondence than I could take in real life. No problem, he understood, we'll have you free momentarily. We sat and chatted thru several beers, me still barebutt and no offer from him to let me get dressed. I felt like, well, you know what. Coward, sissy, phony, a guy who wasted HIS time, getting his expectations up for a spanking I couldn't take. But my ass was still bare, and I gradually learned that I wasn't going anywhere. I was slapped a few times and reminded that I had a spanking coming, but I didn't believe it.