Timothy's Summer School, chp 2

The Beginning

Previous Chapter

End of June

"You are a very naughty, careless boy, and I am going to spank you until you can't sit down for a week!"

Ms. Johnson yanked the struggling Timothy across her lap and pulled his pants down to his ankles.  She wrapped her left arm around his waist and brought the paddle down hard across his bare bottom as she scolded him.  There was no warmup at all, and she started the spanking at a furious pace.

The two were playing a game they had discussed the prior week.  They were both very interested in the mindset they had found during their last meeting, and wanted to experience it again.  To that end, Timothy had asked for a "real punishment", and the two had come up with a scenario.  Timothy had been looking forward to it all week.  Finally, the day of Timothy's next lesson came.  It was a cool summer day, and Timothy biked over to her house.  He knocked on the door, and Ms. Johnson let him in.

"Hello Timothy.  I have prepared your lesson.  Would you like a glass of juice?"  Timothy nodded.  Ms. Johnson went to the kitchen and poured a drink for him.  "Please be careful of the carpet".

The two of them sat down together on the couch in Ms. Johnson's living room, ostensibly for Ms. Johnson to begin their tutoring session.  The ping pong paddle was located conveniently within arm's reach.  After a few minutes, Timothy had "accidentally" knocked the glass onto the floor, spilling the juice all over the carpet.  Ms. Johnson responded immediately with mock, but quite realistic, fury, and Timothy's quickly bared bottom was soon paying a steep price.

"I have warned you and warned you to be careful.  It seems like the only thing you understand is a sore bottom!"  The paddling continued without any pause.  Timothy thought that this was, by far, the hardest she had spanked him.  In a very short time his eyes were filled with tears, and his legs were kicking furiously.  Suddenly, there was a loud SNAP and the spanking stopped.

Timothy looked back over his shoulder, confused. He looked up at Ms Johnson's shocked face. She  was holding the handle of the ping pong paddle in her right hand.  The business end had snapped off, and flown clear across the room.  Ms. Johnson recovered her composure quickly, and looked down at Timothy.

"Well, young man.  You were so naughty that I actually broke the paddle on your backside.  It seems you have an assignment before our next meeting.  My good wooden hairbrush is still in the classroom at school, and obviously I need something to keep you in line.  I will expect you to report next time with an appropriately severe replacement."

"Yes, Ms. Johnson," sniffled Timothy, simultaneously relieved and disappointed at the turn of events.

"That said, there is still the matter of today's carelessness to deal with.  I promised you a very sore bottom, and I intend to keep my promise.  Stand up."

Timothy quickly obeyed.  Ms. Johnson stood and seized his upper arm, leading him around to the side of the sofa.  Because his pants were still around his ankles, he had to shuffle quickly to follow her.  "Bend over".

Once again, Timothy complied, Ms. Johnson adjusting him so that his upper body was resting on the cushions, and his bare bottom was raised over the rounded arm of the sofa.  His toes barely grazed the floor.

"Imagine being so naughty that one paddle isn't enough.  Well, young man, I think this is going to turn into a memorable day for you."

Timothy heard a metallic jingling, and then a sliding sound.  Ms Johnson had unbuckled and pulled her wide leather belt free from its belt loops.  She folded it in half and raised it high.

"I will teach you to behave if I have to wear out every paddle..."

CRACK

"...hairbrush...."

CRACK

"...Wooden spoon..."

CRACK

"...and spatula in the STATE!"

CRACK

"And I will certainly wear out this naughty bottom of yours!"

CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK

Ms. Johnson renewed the furious pace she had started with the paddle.  Timothy was really suffering, his hands balling into fists in the cloth of the couch.  Each stroke of the belt felt like a line of fire being drawn across his bottom. He quickly kicked his pants and underwear completely off, and his feet drummed a desperate beat against the floor.  Ms. Johnson placed her left hand firmly on the small of his back and continued to thrash his bottom with the folded belt.

Timothy was openly crying now, his tears and screams both being absorbed by the couch cushions.  His fingers found the edge of one cushion and pulled him forward.  He arched his back and wailed.

"OWWWWWW!  I'll be a good boy!"

"You had better be.  Otherwise, you are going to have the sorest bottom in history."  Ms. Johnson did not let up at all.  The belt cracked down, painting angry red stripes across Timothy's bottom.  He continued to cry out wordlessly, as tears streamed down his face.  Finally, the punishment stopped, and Timothy heard the belt being thrown onto the couch past his head.  Timothy felt Ms. Johnson's hand stroking his welted bottom.

"Well, young man.  That belt certainly did a number on you."

Timothy was slowly coming back to reality.  He turned his head so that his cheek rested on the cushion, which was very damp from his tears.

"Yes Ms. Johnson.  I know I deserved it."

"You certainly did" Ms. Johnson purred.  "Just look at what you did to my carpet.  I am definitely going to need to be more strict with you in the future."

"Yes ma'am."  Timothy breathed.

"I meant what I said." she said, walking past him and picking up the belt.  "I expect you to bring me something to discipline you with.  Something I can use on you over my knee."

Timothy nodded.  The couch was cool against his face.

"And you had better make sure it is something appropriate, young man.  Otherwise..." She snapped the belt loudly.

Timothy gasped.  He nodded quickly.

"That said, now that you've made your acquaintance with my belt, I am quite sure it will make another appearance.  Take a minute and get yourself together.  Then you can get dressed.  I can't say I envy your bike ride home."  Ms. Johnson gently stroked his bottom, then patted it affectionately.

Timothy took more than a minute to completely recompose himself.  He located his pants and underwear where he had kicked them across the floor, and carefully pulled them over his smarting backside.  He hugged Ms. Johnson and walked out the door to his bike.  Ms Johnson cleaned up the juice and went upstairs to consider the day's events.

Somehow, neither of them noticed that the window in the next room had been wide open.  Similarly, as Timothy walked out, he completely missed the red bike leaning against a nearby tree.

Next Chapter

Timothy’s Summer School chp 1

The Beginning

Previous Chapter

A few weeks later, sometime in the middle of June.

Timothy was enjoying summer break.  He had a lot of freedom, and a bike to explore with.  There was very little else he needed for a good break, but he it just so happened that he did have one other thing...

He thought about the meeting with Ms. Johnson every day.  They had met again on the last day of school, where she asked him again if he wanted to repeat the experience.  When he responded (enthusiastically) that he did, she handed him a slip of paper with her address.  She then told him that she was going out of town for a few weeks, but as soon as she returned, they would meet to discuss how his behavior had been.  She said this last part with a meaningful look that sent a pleasurable shiver down Timothy's spine.

The slip had become Timothy's most prized possession,  The address on the slip was not in his neighborhood, but it was very close.  He biked by her house every couple days just to check if she had returned.  By this point, it had just become part of his regular route.  On this day, he quickly passed the house, noted the empty driveway, and headed home.

As he turned into his neighborhood, he passed a classmate, on her red bike headed the opposite way.  Megan was a pretty blond, slightly taller than Timothy.  They had been friends since their early childhood.  Their parents often joked that they would end up married, but they'd never done anything romantic together.

"You'v got a visitor!"  Megan sing-songed teasingly at him as she turned out of the neighborhood at high speed.

Timothy looked over his shoulder at her, slightly confused.  Then he turned the corner and his house came into view.  Parked in front of the house was an unfamiliar car.

Timothy parked his bike, wiped some sweat off his forehead, and walked in through his front door.  As soon as he stepped inside, he froze.  Seated in the family room, sipping iced tea, were his parents... and Ms. Johnson.  She was dressed casually, in summer shorts with a wide leather belt and a partially tucked in shirt.  She looked up as he entered, an amused expression on her face.

"Hello, Timothy.  I was just discussing our plans for the summer with your parents."

Timothy's jaw almost hit the floor.

"Yes, Timothy", his mother said.  "Ms. Johnson was just telling us how you had discussed having her tutor you to get you ready for next year.  She's taken quite a shine to you.  And that shows great initiative on your part, Timothy."

Timothy looked back and forth between Ms. Johnson and his mother.  He wasn't quite sure what to say.

"Now that I'm back in town, we had thought maybe weekly sessions would work.  What do you think?"  Ms. Johnson took a sip of her iced tea, very clearly amused at Timothy's concern.

"Weekly?   Um...yes.  Yes!  I think a weekly session would be perfect.  Thank you, Ms. Johnson."

"Great!  Why don't you go get cleaned up, and you can head out" his mother said.

"Wait...what?"

"Go take a shower.  You're all sweaty from the bike ride.  When you come down, Ms. Johnson can take you for your first session."

"Right now?"  Timothy was in a near panic.

"No time like the present.  I'll drive you over." Ms. Johnson said, a chuckle evident in her voice.  "That way you won't have to sit on that bike all the way home"  She caught his eye meaningfully.

"O...Ok."  Timothy walked upstairs in a daze.  He went into the bathroom and stripped down.  He could hear his parents and Ms. Johnson continuing to talk downstairs.  As the shower ran over his head, the excitement of the situation suddenly washed over him.  He finished quickly and almost ran to his room, where he put on clean clothing.  He dashed downstairs, where Ms. Johnson was waiting for him.

They walked out of the door, Ms. Johnson promising to return him in a few hours.  She opened the passenger side car door for him and then got in herself.  She started the car, and then turned to him.

"We both know what's going to happen when I get you home, correct?"

"Yes, Ms. Johnson."

"And what is that?"

Timothy shyly looked down at his hands.  Even though they both knew each other's secret, he could still barely bring himself to say the words.

"...You're going to give me a spanking."  He whispered.

"That's exactly right.  And it's going to be a good one, too.  As soon as we get there, I want you to go right upstairs and go to the first bedroom on the left.  You've already lost your right to modesty, so remove your pants and put your nose in the corner.  I will be up to deal with you shortly."

A shiver went up Timothy's back.

Ms. Johnson pulled the car away from the curb  "You and I are going to have a very, very thorough discussion today, which I hope will set the proper tone for this summer."

The ride went very quickly.  Ms. Johnson pulled into the familiar driveway and stopped the car.  She looked meaningfully at Timothy.

"The door is unlocked.  I've told you what do do.  I expect to be obeyed promptly."

"Yes, Ms. Johnson."  Timothy quickly got up and walked into the unfamiliar house.  He followed her directions and went right upstairs and turned into the bedroom.  At the foot of the bed was a chair with a low, straight back.

And resting on the chair was a blue ping-pong paddle.

Timothy took off his shoes, then he removed his pants and underwear and folded them neatly on the bed.  Clad only in socks and a t-shirt, he took a deep breath and turned to face the corner.  Embarrassment and excitement competed for attention in his head as he waited for Ms. Johnson.

With his nose in the corner, unable to see anything except bare wall, all of his other senses seemed heightened.  He could feel the coolness in the air, especially on his lower half.  He could hear the creaks of the house, and the front door of the house closing and locking as Ms. Johnson entered.  He listened very carefully and, after what seemed like hours, he could hear her footsteps on the stairs.

Ms. Johnson walked into the bedroom and closed the door behind her.  She saw Timothy had obeyed her instructions to the letter, and smiled.  She had been looking forward to this since their first session had awakened a latent need in her mind.

Timothy heard her enter and walk across the room.  He heard the subtle sound of wood sliding on wood as she picked up the paddle.  Then he heard her voice.

"Turn around, young man"

Timothy slowly turned.  Ms. Johnson was seated in the chair, the blue paddle held low in her right hand.

"Over my knee.  Right now."

Timothy walked towards her and laid himself across her lap.  She used her left hand to brush the back of his t-shirt away from the target.  She raised her arm and brought the paddle down, hard, across his bottom.

SMACK!

I know it's not a chair.  I can't draw.

Again and again she slapped the paddle down.  The thin paddle moved rapidly.  Each smack hurt less than an individual smack from the hairbrush, but the head of the paddle was so wide that every stroke overlapped the last.  There was no relief for Timothy between strokes, and he very quickly found himself shifting and struggling on her lap to avoid the paddle.

"OW! I'll be a good boy, Ms. Johnson!  I promise!"

This had come out involuntarily.  Ms. Johnson smiled as she, too got into the mindset.

"You had your chance to be good, young man.  You've earned yourself a good, hard paddling, and that's exactly what you're going to get!"  Ms. Johnson renewed her efforts, turning his bottom an even shade of red.    The paddle didn't have quite the intensity of the hairbrush, so Ms. Johnson felt she was able to go on for much longer than their first time in the classroom.  She continued paddling him, interrupting the smacks with occasional scolding words.

"You know you deserve this.  I am going to spank you every week this summer, and you have earned every single one, isn't that right?"

Timothy's mind was very much that of a naughty, punished boy at this point.  Tears came freely and he sobbed his response. "Yes Ms. Johnson.  I've been ba-ha-haad!"

"You most certainly have.  And this is exactly what bad boys get."

The paddle continued its work.  Timothy's bottom was crimson, and there was a pool of tears on the floor where his head hung down.  Finally, Ms. Johnson stopped.

"Do you think you can behave yourself?"  She asked.

Timothy could barely catch his breath.  "...Yes.  Yes, I'll be good."

"Good.  Stand up and go back to the corner.  Pull your shirt up in the back.

Timothy obeyed, and Ms. Johnson surveyed her handiwork.  With the t-shirt pulled up to the small of his back, she could see that she'd been very thorough.  His bottom, from the crest to the tops of his legs, was an even, angry shade of red.

She stood up and walked over to him.  She could see his shoulders heaving with his breath.  She reached out and could feel the heat radiating from his backside.

"Was that ok?" She asked.

Timothy swallowed and brought himself back to reality "Yes Ms. Johnson.  That was perfect.  Thank you."

"Good.  I have quite a few ideas for this summer.  Get yourself together and come downstairs so we can discuss them.  

I'll put a pillow on a chair for you."

Next Chapter

Timothy Asks Pt 2

Previous Chapter

"Come stand on my right side.  And I mean now."

Timothy's breath caught.  This was exactly what he had wanted and hoped for, but now that the moment was here, he was terrified.  He tried to obey...he really did, but his legs wouldn't cooperate.  The expression on Ms. Johnson's face expressed her growing anger.

"I gave you a chance to back out, young man.  When I give you a direction, I expect to be obeyed."

She reached out and grabbed his wrist and pulled him roughly to her side.  A simple tug and he tumbled unceremoniously across her lap.  She adjusted his position slightly to raise his already bared bottom.  Timothy was uncomfortably aware of his nakedness now that it was pressed against Ms. Johnson's thigh.

"Now then.  Let's see what you think about the real thing."

Time seemed to stand still for Timothy.  There was a pause that seemed to last forever.  He felt her shift, and then there was a sharp report that echoed through the classroom.

SMACK!

He barely had time to register the sensation...more shock than pain, before three more landed rapid fire in the same spot.  True to her promise, Ms. Johnson started off the spanking without holding back.  She laid into his bare bottom without speaking.  The only sound in the classroom was the repeated smack of her hard palm on his unprotected backside.  Timothy's mouth was open in a silent scream, but the suddenness of the assault left him unable to make a sound.

The repeated smacks built, and Timothy was starting to feel some real distress.  The spanking hurt.  It hurt a lot.  He started whimpering and gasping in time with each smack.  Tears formed at the corner of his eyes.  Ms. Johnson took note of his increasing reactions.

"There.  Now it seems we're getting somewhere."  She followed this with ten more smacks harder than any of those that had preceded it.  Timothy responded with a wordless howl of pain. Then she paused, both of them breathing heavily, though for very different reasons.

"As I said, only the naughtiest boys get spanked bare.  And since you have proved yourself to deserve such a severe punishment, I think it's time to move on to the next stage."  She shifted again, and Timothy felt her place the cool, hard wood of the back of the hairbrush against his sore bottom.

"I hope this gives you what you need, young man".  The hairbrush left and returned.  The first smack on his already scorched bottom hurt more than the rest of the spanking put together.  Another immediately followed, and another.

"OWOWOWOWOWOWOW!"  Timothy's entire world was his bottom and the hairbrush.  He squirmed and kicked, pushing himself forward on her lap as if to run away from the impact of the brush.  Ms. Johnson held him fast, seizing his wrist and pushing it into the small of his back.  She continued to spank him with the brush, noting the white-centered red splotches that every smack produced.

Timothy was crying openly now, tears streaming down his face. "I'm sorry, Ms. Johnson!”  Timothy wasn’t even sure what he was apologizing for.  He just knew that he felt contrite and punished.  Ms. Johnson paid his apologies no mind, and continued to bring the heavy hairbrush crashing into his already scarlet backside.

Timothy had been so lost in the pain and fear of the spanking that he had forgotten how thrilling it had been in his imagination.  But, when he realized that nothing he could do or say would stop Ms. Johnson from her requested task, that feeling suddenly returned.  He was still sobbing, but he lay limp over her lap, accepting each spank. He became aware of his nakedness and vulnerability, and in particular the sensitive spots that were in direct contact with Ms. Johnson’s leg.  He was almost disappointed when Ms.Johnson stopped and placed the hairbrush on the ground.

Timothy sobbed quietly over her lap.  He felt her gently rubbing the small of his back.  He took a deep, ragged breath and recomposed himself.

"You can stand up now, Timothy."

He pushed himself back onto his feet next to her and rubbed the tears and snot from his face,

"Well, I was going to ask if that matched your hopes, but I think I have visual evidence that it did", Ms Johnson said, wryly eyeing Timothy's very obvious erection.  Timothy gasped and covered up.  "Go ahead and get dressed."

Timothy gingerly pulled up his shorts over his throbbing backside.  He regretted not having underwear to prevent the fabric of the shorts rubbing painfully against his skin.

"Well?  Was that what you were hoping for?

Timothy sniffed.  "Yes, Ms. Johnson.  Thank you."

"Do you think it's something you would want to repeat?"  Ms. Johnson asked, with a somewhat amused look on her face.

Timothy gaped.  He wasn't sure how to react.

"....Yes ma'am.  I would." he said almost unconsciously.

"Good.  I think I would too.  Summer vacation is coming up.  I will give you my address so we can continue to discuss your behavior."

Timothy smiled.

Next Chapter

Timothy Asks pt1

This is a story inspired by the image below.

Today was the day.

Timothy had been planning this for months.  Well, he'd been thinking about it for months....  The actual planning and preparation had come in a rush this morning.  But he had been steeling himself for the conversation throughout his school day.  He sat through Ms. Johnson's class, completely unable to concentrate on the day's lesson.  Fortunately (or, he ruefully thought to himself, unfortunately...), he was a good student...especially in Ms. Johnson's class, so it didn't get him in trouble.

Finally, the last bell rang.  All of the other students, eager to get outside on a beautiful spring day, bolted for the door.  Ms. Johnson remained seated behind her desk, looking down at a few papers she was marking up.  Timothy lingered a bit as he packed his supplies into his school bag.  He took a deep breath and pulled a single sheet of paper from the bag.

"Ms. Johnson?"

"Yes, Timothy?"  Ms. Johnson looked up at him and smiled.  Timothy thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.  Tall and willowy, but with a clear strength that showed in her control of the class.  She kept her dark blonde hair cut short, which gave her the appearance of a '50s housewife, if an exceptionally attractive one.

Timothy walked towards the teacher's desk, the paper clutched in his hands.  The picture was facing towards him so Ms. Johnson didn't get a look at it before he was able to explain.  He stepped away from his bag so that he had no opportunity to chicken out and stuff it back into the folder where it had been sitting all day.

"Ms. Johnson, there is something I wanted to ask you.  It's a little embarrassing."

Ms. Johnson looked up, a mixture of interest and concern on her face.  Timothy was one of the best behaved students she had ever had.  Even though she didn't like to admit it, even to herself, he was very clearly her favorite student this year.

"Yes, Timothy?  Is something wrong?"

"This is very hard to ask, and I knew I wouldn't be able to get it out....so I drew you a picture.  Would you mind looking at it?"

"Of course, Timothy. Let me see."  She reached out her hand.

Timothy's mind panicked.  This was the point of no return.  He'd set it up deliberately so he'd have no way out that wasn't more embarrassing than the conversation he was about to have.  He handed her the paper.

Ms. Johnson looked at the paper.  She was very confused. On it was a colored pencil drawing.  Timothy was a talented artist, and the figures were clear.  A woman with Ms. Johnson's features was seated on a chair, her right arm upraised. Her face was stern.  Across her lap was a young man, with his pants  down, exposing a pair of white briefs.  His head was slightly turned, but the face was recognizably Timothy's.  There were tears running down his face.  It was very apparent to Ms. Johnson what was happening in the picture.

Ms. Johnson looked up.  "Timothy, this is a very good drawing, but I admit I am kind of confused.  I am thinking back over the year, and I don't think I ever had the need to spank you."

This was sadly true.  Ms Johnson did spank her students on rare occasion, but only when they truly deserved it.  Timothy's birthday was not during the school year, so he had been denied even the playful birthday spanks she gave to students fortunate enough to receive them.

Timothy breathed deeply.  "I know Ms. Johnson.  That's what I wanted to ask you.  I can't get the thought of that drawing out of my head.  I....I was hoping you could give me a spanking before summer vacation started."

Ms. Johnson was taken aback.  "Well Timothy, I have to say that is the most unusual request I have ever had.  Most students try very hard to avoid spankings.  That's why I use them."

Timothy nodded silently.

"I'm going to have to think about this.  I'm not saying no.  In fact, I am probably going to say yes.  But I think we need to get a few things clear first.  Is that OK?"

Timothy nodded again.

"Ok.  First, this obviously needs to stay between us.  When I discipline a student in class, there is a record.  And I don't want your excellent school record being marked up for something that you don't deserve.  Also, I'm sure you can imagine that other people knowing about this would be just as embarrassing for me as for you."

Timothy doubted that, but he nodded his enthusiastic agreement.

"I notice that you are crying in this picture.  That makes me think you aren't asking me for a playful birthday spanking. Is that right?  You want a real one?"

"Yes Ms. Johnson."

"Is there something you feel you need to be punished for?  Something you want to tell me?"

Timothy started listing a number of petty misbehaviors, both in school and at home.  Ms Johnson listened and smiled.  "Well, Timothy, that's quite a list.  But none of those are bad enough for a spanking.  And I think you might just be exaggerating a few of them a bit."

Timothy blushed.  She was right.

"You are a very well behaved student, Timothy.  I don't think you deserve a spanking at all.  Are you sure this is something you want?

"Yes, please Ms. Johnson.  I really need you to do it."

Ms Johnson nodded.  "OK Timothy.  In that case, I need you to understand three things.  I want to make sure I give you what you need, and so I'm going to be very clear about what a 'real spanking' means.  First, I will pull down your pants and spank you on your underwear. Your picture shows that you already know this, but I want to make sure we understand each other."

Timothy had made a few preparations with exactly this in mind.  He nodded again.

"Second, and I know you know this...I spank hard.  You've seen me spank other students.  You know it hurts a lot, right?

"Yes Ms. Johnson.  I think I need it to hurt."

"That brings me to my third point.  If this is a REAL spanking you are talking about, then this is your last chance to change your mind.  A real spanking ends when I think it should end...not when you decide that it hurts too much.  Are you quite sure you want to find out if the reality matches your fantasy here?" She gestured towards the drawing.

"Yes Ms. Johnson.  You can spank me as long and as hard as you think you should."

Ms Johnson sighed and stood up.  "OK Timothy.  I honestly thought I was never going to have to do this to you.  You are so well behaved in class.  But I understand that this is something you think you need." She walked to the classroom door and locked it, then pulled the curtain over the small window.  She walked back, pulled the chair from behind her desk and sat back down.  "Please come stand in front of me."

Timothy stepped around the desk and stood in front of her.  The moment had come.

"Hands on your head."

Timothy immediately complied.  Ms. Johnson's hand went to the button on Timothy's shorts.  She slid them down to his thighs.  Then she stopped.

"Timothy, you are not wearing underwear."

Timothy had no response.

"Did you do this on purpose to get me to spank you on the bare bottom?  You know that's not how I spank."  Her voice was very stern now.

Timothy slowly nodded.

"Well, young man.  That is far, far worse than any of the little crimes you listed for me earlier.  Only the naughtiest boys get spanked on the bare bottom, and it looks like you are about to find out why that is."  Leaving him standing with his pants down, she reached to a drawer on her desk.  She slid it open and retrieved something.  She placed it on the desk.  It was a very ominous looking hairbrush.  Timothy had never seen it, let alone seen it used.  Ms. Johnson had threatened a few other students of its existence, but this was the first confirmation he had of its reality.

"It looks like it will be a day full of firsts for both of us.  I haven't had to use this in a few years. I think you're going to regret this request.  Come stand on my right side.  And I mean now."

Next Chapter

What I like

My primary fantasy is asking for discipline, and then finding out that I've bitten off more than I can chew.

Even more than the spanking itself, I need the feeling of being subject to discipline.  The pain of the spanking itself is secondary, but it's a very vital secondary.  The loss of control is the main part to me, and I don't feel that I can truly lose control if what is happening is something I want.  I do not enjoy being spanked.  I enjoy that I am spanked.

Introduction


I am not sure if anyone will read this blog at all, which is ok.  There are plenty of blogs and other sites on this topic to satisfy even the most dedicated reader.  This is mainly for me to get my thoughts, stories, anecdotes, and other musings out.  If they interest or help someone else in a similar situation, that's absolutely a bonus.  This is not intended to be a pornographic blog, but it is primarily going to be about my experiences with adult spanking....primarily as the recipient.

I am a mid 40s heterosexual male with a long-term partner who is primarily vanilla, but I have convinced her to add a few sprinkles.  Her enthusiasm for and expertise in this particular activity is growing.  Personally, I have had this interest as long as I can remember...long before I had any idea or conception of what sex was.  I was not spanked as a child, but I was fascinated with the idea.  Since I grew up pre-internet, a lot of my early memories on this are looking up the important words in the dictionary. I have vivid memories of a few books, shows, plays etc. which particularly sparked my imagination.  Most of these involved female spankees (which is certainly a subject that interests me), however, the primary subject of this blog is going to be my experiences and desires related to the other side of the hairbrush.

I consider my interest in spanking to be a parallel sexuality with my heterosexual desire for sex.  Spanking for me is definitely erotic, but not entirely sexual. I normally am not interested in sex during or after I am spanked.  The spanking itself is the main event, rather than foreplay for another activity.

That said, I think it's worth pointing out that all (ALL) of my erotic fantasies involve spanking.  I love sex, but, given the choice, I would exclude sex from my life before I would exclude spanking.

There will be pics on here.  Some original, most pulled from the internet.  If they belong to you, and you don't want them here, please let me know and I'll take them down right away.

That's the intro.  If I keep this up, and if anyone actually reads it, I hope you'll get to know me and my experiences better.  Thanks for reading!