Petite blonde, age 24, 5'2", 105 lbs., 34-22-34, loves red cheeks - especially
mine! If you're a man who knows how to tan a naughty girl's bottom, give me a
spanking I won't forget. Send photo and personal info to Box 103SM. The ad was
in a local adults-only newspaper, and as soon as I saw it I knew I had to
respond. I'd fantasized for a long time about spanking and being spanked, and
had even spent an hour in a "dungeon" to satisfy my curiosity about whether
being spanked - hard - by a woman would be the kind of turn-on I imagined. But I
hadn't yet met a woman who wanted to be spanked. I knew I could find someone
who, for a price, would let me do just about anything, but even if I could
afford it, the idea of paying someone to submit to pain seemed, well, immoral to
me. But here, at last, was someone who might enjoy it! I composed a short note
and sent it, with a snapshot of myself, to the paper's box number. The note
included my telephone number, and a few days later I came home from work to find
a message on my answering machine - call Gail at the number she mentioned. I
called the number and she answered. We chatted a few minutes without mentioning
her ad, and I knew she was trying to find out what kind of person I was, whether
I might be dangerous. I told her about my job, that I was divorced, and why,
that I had two kids who lived with their mother but spent two weekends a month
with me. Finally she seemed satisfied that I wasn't some kind of maniac. We
talked about her ad and my letter, and eventually agreed to meet for a drink the
next evening, a Friday. After we hung up, I inspected the "toys" I'd gathered
over the past few years - several wooden paddles of different sizes and weights,
some with padded faces and some without; small leather straps with buckles, for
restraints, and some larger straps without buckles, for use on, shall we say,
the target area; a hairbrush from which I'd removed the bristles, so that one
side was flat and smooth and the other side covered with small holes; and the
strip of Lucite and the birch cane that had been used regularly on me and my
younger siblings, from the time we were seven or eight years old until we
reached our early teens. I didn't know whether Gail would want me to use any of
the toys, but her ad had sounded as though she was both serious and experienced,
so I guessed that she would be up for more than a hand spanking. I cleaned
everything out of my gym bag and put the toys in it for inconspicuous transport.
The next evening I went to the small bar Gail and I had agreed on, and I spotted
her without difficulty; unlike a lot of people who posted personal ads, Gail had
been truthful about her attributes. She was cute without being gorgeous, with a
trim, athletic-looking body and a surprisingly good tan for someone with such
fair skin. I felt very comfortable being with her. We had our drinks, but the
place was so noisy that we couldn't have much of a conversation, and after we'd
had a second round Gail suggested that we go over to her apartment. As I
followed her up the stairs to her second-floor flat, gym bag in hand, I couldn't
help noticing how the muscles of her ass bunched and relaxed as climbed the
steps, and speculating about what I'd see once a couple of layers of thin cloth
were out of the way. Gail unlocked the front door and ushered me into a neat,
well-furnished apartment. After giving me a quick tour of the five rooms she
offered me another drink. I accepted, and she made drinks for both of us before
sitting down on the living room sofa. We looked at one another for a long time
without speaking, until I decided to break the ice by asking how she'd come to
have an interest in spanking. She said that she had had a very strict upbringing
and had been spanked often as a child, both by her mother and by her stepfather.
A few years ago she had realized that although those spankings had been very
painful at the time, thinking about them later was "stimulating". I asked how
old she'd been when she'd last been spanked by one of them, and learned that her
mother hadn't spanked her after she was about twelve, but that her stepfather
had continued for another couple of years. Her mother had finally made him stop
because Gail was getting "too developed." I asked how old she'd been when she
got her first "voluntary" spanking, and was rewarded with a blush that extended
even into her scalp. Nervously, Gail admitted that she hadn't been spanked since
she was fourteen, but hadn't wanted to sound naive in her ad. I reassured her
that I understood this was an experiment for her, that we would proceed very
gradually and go no further than she wanted to. Privately, I doubted that I
would be opening my bag of toys. I told Gail I would do nothing without warning
her and giving her a chance to say "no", but that I thought it would help
prepare her mentally if she got into position across my lap. She hesitated for a
moment, then gulped the last of her drink and stood up. Sliding to the center of
the sofa, I reached up and took her hand. I pulled her gently down until she lay
across my legs; her crotch rested on my right thigh and I could feel her boobs
pressing against the outside of my left thigh. Without saying anything, I ran my
hand slowly over the seat of her pants and felt her whole body tremble. Keeping
my hand on her ass, I asked her to tell me more about her childhood spankings.
Her mother, she said, usually used a hard-soled bedroom slipper or a yardstick;
her stepfather had used his hairbrush when she was younger and his belt after
she was ten or eleven. Quick, impulsive spankings might be administered wherever
she happened to be when the cause arose, and would be given through whatever
clothing she was wearing. Spankings like that were frightening because they were
often accompanied by rage, and embarrassing if her friends were around, but not
particularly painful because she was protected by clothing and because the
spankings were generally brief. Serious spankings, Gail said, were administered
in her bedroom and were much more painful. Regardless of the time of day, she
would be sent to her room with instructions to remove all her clothing and put
on her nightgown, and would then be left to contemplate the impending punishment
for anywhere from ten minutes to an hour. I stroked Gail's back with one hand
and her ass with the other as she spoke, and could feel her arching her pelvis
to push her asscheeks against my hand. If her mother were going to do the
spanking, Gail continued, she would have Gail pull her nightgown up to her waist
and lie face down on her bed with her knees bent and her toes on the floor. Her
mother would then apply the slipper or the yardstick to Gail's bare bottom. Most
of her mother's spankings consisted of no more than two dozen strokes, unless
Gail moved; her mother made no attempt to hold Gail in place, but if she moved
she would be ordered back into position and her mother would start over. I slid
my hand down the back of first one of Gail's thighs and then the other as she
described the way her mother had spanked her, and noted appreciatively that her
legs parted as I touched her. Moving my hand back to her ass, I asked Gail what
had been different about the spankings her stepfather had given her. One
difference, she said, was that he always made her take her nightgown off, so
that she was totally naked. When he intended to use his hairbrush, he would sit
on the edge of her bed and make her lie across his lap, just as she was lying
across mine now. I could imagine the scene perfectly, seeing her naked body
trembling the same way it shuddered fully clothed under my hands now. Her
stepfather would spank her quickly ten or fifteen times with his hairbrush,
lecture her while her cries subsided, and then repeat the spanking. Generally he
would do this five or six times, leaving her with bruises that lasted several
days. Once he began using his belt instead of the hairbrush, her stepfather
required Gail to kneel on the bed, head down and bottom up in the air. She was
required to count each lash out loud, and if she moved the whipping would start
over. Her stepfather usually gave her ten lashes without stopping, covering the
backs of her thighs as well as her bottom, and then gave her a minute or two
before the next set. After two or three sets, especially in the final year or
two, he would make her spread her knees far apart and would lash the insides of
her thighs as well as the backs. I asked whether her stepfather touched her,
with anything other than his belt, while she was in the spanking position, and
Gail blushed deeply again as she told me he'd never touched her sexually,
although he sometimes prodded her to make her move to a different position. Gail
was breathing raggedly as she spoke, the words tumbling out. I doubted that she
had ever told these stories to anyone before, and if she had told anyone, I was
willing to bet that the listener hadn't been able to see - as I could - how wet
the crotch of her pants had become. "All right, Gail," I told her. "I think I
understand the significance this has to you. I'm going to spank you in just a
minute" - I felt her ass harden under my palm - "but first I want to explain
something to you." She sighed and relaxed. "The problem with most voluntary
spankings is that the person being spanked knows how to make it stop. When you
were a kid, you didn't have that kind of control - your mother or your
stepfather kept on spanking until they were done, no matter whether you thought
you'd had enough or not. And that's the way it's going to be when I spank you."
"But what if -", Gail started to ask in alarm. "Wait a minute, let me finish," I
said firmly. "That doesn't mean you have no say in the matter. Before I do
anything, I'll tell you what I'm going to do, and we'll agree on how many you'll
get. If you don't agree, I won't do anything at all, but once you agree, it will
be too late to change your mind, and I won't stop until the agreed number unless
I decide you've had too many. Now, how does that sound to you?" She was silent
for a moment. "All right, I guess," she said slowly. "But what if it just hurts
too much?" "That's what will make it seem real," I replied. "And the next time,
if you want, we can agree on a smaller number." "O.K.," she said shakily, "I
sure hope I don't regret this." "You won't," I assured her. "Now, since it's
been a long time for you, we'll start very gently. We'll leave your pants on,
and I'll just use my hand. How many of those shall I give you?" Gail thought for
a moment. "How about five?" she said tentatively. "How about ten?" I responded.
We settled on seven, and I shifted her slightly to make sure her ass was
directly above my thigh. I raised my hand and said, "O.K., here we go!" I
brought my open palm down sharply on the clenched muscles of her right asscheek.
Gail expelled her breath swiftly but made no other sound. I gave her a matching
smack on the left side, and followed up with another on the left before she
could clench that cheek again. The seven spanks took only ten seconds or so, and
Gail gave no indication that she found them hard to take. "Those didn't hurt
much, did they? How about fifteen more?" I asked. "O.K.", she answered. "I think
I can handle that." I resumed without any warning, and the first swat provoked a
small yelp of surprise. The last three spanks of that set elicited short moans,
but nothing that sounded as though Gail were in real pain. "All right," I
announced, "I think it's time to make things a little more realistic. Let's get
those pants out of the way." Gail stood up stiffly, unzipped her slacks and
pulled them off. She looked at me questioningly, obviously wondering if I
intended her to remove her bikini panties as well. "Leave those on, for now," I
smiled, "but why don't you take your blouse off and save some time later?" She
had to realize that meant that I expected all of her clothes to be off before we
finished, but the idea didn't seem to bother her. She unbuttoned her blouse and
dropped it on top of her slacks. Then, wearing only her bra and a pair of pale
blue nylon panties - neither of which left a great deal to my imagination - she
draped herself across my lap again. Her bikini panties exposed a lot of skin,
and I could see that her ass was as firm and well-shaped as I'd guessed. It was
also slightly tinged with pink from the gentle spanking she'd had so far; it
would be pinker after the next set. "I'm still going to use my hand," I told
her. "You're more exposed now, but you've also gotten used to the feeling, so
why don't we start with twenty?" We settled on fifteen, and I agreed to warn her
before the first. I gave her the warning and landed a hard swat in the middle of
her left asscheek, being careful to center the blow over the nylon-covered area.
The sound echoed loudly and my hand stung, so I knew her ass did too, but Gail
reacted only with a sharp gasp. I continued briskly, gradually letting the
spanks land more on bare skin and less on nylon. She was squirming by the time I
gave her the fifteenth spank, but her movements seemed more designed to grind
her pubic bone against my thigh than to avoid the force of my slaps. We had
reached a critical point. I had to decide whether to remove the last of Gail's
clothing and continue spanking her by hand, or to introduce her to my toys. Much
as I wanted to see her totally nude, it seemed to me that she was less likely to
fear my toys if she still had the protection - more psychological than physical
- of her panties when I introduced them, so I told her to get up and hand me my
gym bag. I put the bag on the coffee table in front of us and unzipped it. Then
I told Gail to take everything out. She examined each paddle and strap carefully
before laying it out on the coffee table. When she had finished, I told her to
choose the one she wanted me to use. "Couldn't you just spank me some more with
your hand?" she asked. "I mean, your hand was really starting to sting, and
those things look like they could really hurt." "I'll do whatever you want," I
told her, "but I think you're ready for more than just my hand. You want to see
how a real spanking will feel." "I guess you're right." She selected the
lightest paddle and handed it to me. It was a good choice. I knew from personal
experience that it would sting, but any pain would disappear within a few
minutes. Gail settled back across my lap but didn't relax the way she had
before. I stroked her ass and the backs of her thighs, assuring her that the
paddle was only a small step away from the hand spankings she'd endured so
easily. Most of the tension left her body, but I could tell that her asscheeks
were still tight. I asked her how many she wanted to start with, and she
suggested five. I countered with fifteen, and we agreed on ten. I raised the
paddle and told her to relax; my words, of course, had the opposite effect. I
landed the paddle sharply on the panty-covered part of her right asscheek. Gail
jumped and said "Oh!", but made no other sound. Nine more spanks landed quickly.
I alternated from cheek to cheek, and she jerked each time the paddle landed but
remained silent. "Well, what do you think?", I asked after the tenth stroke. "It
didn't hurt as much as I'd been afraid it would. In fact," she admitted, "it
felt good, even better than your hand." "I thought you'd say that," I commented.
I was elated, because I was sure now that she could handle a more extensive
session with any of my toys. "Let's go a little farther this time." Without
explaining my comment I rolled her panties down until they were stretched tight
across her thighs, just below the jutting cheeks of her ass. Gooseflesh rippled
across the pale skin of her ass as Gail realized that she was completely
unprotected for the first time. Her cheeks were a mottled pink, but that colour
would disappear within an hour if we stopped now. "I'll use the same paddle, but
I think you should have 25 this time." Gail agreed readily, but clenched her
asscheeks together as I raised the paddle. I swung it harder this time, landing
blows at random. With 25 spanks to work with I managed to cover most of each
cheek. For the first fifteen or so the only sound was the slapping of the
paddle, but then I began to hear an "Ooh!" or an "Unh!" each time the paddle
landed. I finished the 25th and Gail sagged against me. "Oh, God!" she
exclaimed. "That was starting to remind me of a real spanking, the kind I used
to get!" Her ass was showing some redness, but I was sure it would be
considerably redder before I left her apartment. I ran my hands appreciatively
over her silk-smooth skin. "Would you like to take a break now, or shall we go
ahead with another step?" I inquired. Gail thought for a moment. "Um, I'd like
another drink in a few minutes, but first -" She pushed herself up into a
kneeling position, then turned to rummage through the implements on the coffee
table. Rolled down as they were, her panties still covered most of her crotch,
but it was obvious that she was either a natural blonde or had a very intimate
relationship with her hairdresser. After hefting each of my paddles, Gail chose
an oval- shaped one with leather facings and handed it to me. "Why don't you
give me, oh, twenty with that one?" She lowered her body across my lap, but kept
part of her weight on her knees to thrust her rump upward invitingly. "Twenty
you shall have," I responded. I didn't suggest a larger number, because the
paddle she'd chosen was quite a bit heavier than the first one, and I knew from
personal experience that twenty strokes with that would do more than just
"remind" her of a real spanking. I tugged her panties down a little further to
create an unobstructed path to the base of each asscheek and raised the paddle.
"Ready?", I asked. "Ready," she replied confidently. The right cheek flattened
under the impact of the paddle and she let out a surprised yelp. I followed up
quickly with another swat on the left side, then moved back to the right,
avoiding the bright red blotch left by the first stroke. I wasn't swinging the
paddle with anything like my full strength, but I wasn't being gentle either,
and Gail let me know she was feeling the spanks: "OW!" "AAAH!" "Ouch!" "Hurts!"
"OH!" She was no longer thrusting her ass toward the paddle; I felt her full
weight on my thigh as she rolled from side to side, trying to make sure she
wouldn't get two spanks in a row in the same spot if I failed to select a new
target. Her ass was thoroughly reddened by the time I spanked her for the 20th
time and put the paddle down. She lay panting after I finished, still rocking
slightly from side to side. "Wow!", Gail exclaimed at last, "I'm glad I didn't
tell you thirty!" I rubbed the burning mounds gently. "You could have taken
thirty, though, or even forty, you know," I commented. Gail got to her feet.
"Oh, I know I could, I can take lots more than you've given me so far, but I'm
glad you've done it so gradually. If you had pushed me too fast, I'd be afraid
to try any thing more." She collected our glasses and walked into the kitchen,
the rolled strand of sky blue nylon around her thighs contrasting dramatically
with the bright red of her bottom. She was back a couple of minutes later, with
fresh drinks for both of us. She sat down on the sofa and we talked for several
minutes. I asked how she felt about what we'd done so far. She said that the
last set were the only spanks that had hurt while she was getting them, and that
now she felt very tingly and excited; she hoped I wasn't going to stop now. I
assured her that I wasn't going to stop, and as we finished our drinks I told
her I thought the time had come for her to go in her bedroom and put on her
nightgown, and I would meet her there in a few minutes. Gail got to her feet and
started for the bedroom. "Wait," I told her. I surveyed the instruments on the
coffee table and decided on the strip of Lucite; it was a little more than an
inch wide, a quarter of an inch thick and about 18 inches long. It was more like
her mother's yardstick than anything else I had, although the Lucite was heavier
than wood. "When I come in," I continued, "I'm going to give you 25 with this."
I held up the clear plastic strip. "You can think about how that's going to feel
while you're changing." Gail swallowed hard, then nodded and turned back toward
her bedroom. I waited until I heard a toilet flush and a door open and another
one close, then went in search of the bathroom myself--four drinks had made the
need rather urgent. While I was in there I opened a drawer and found the package
I'd expected. I pocketed one of the items in it, then went back to the living
room. I repacked my gym bag and sat down to wait. After giving Gail ten minutes
to change and have second thoughts if she wanted to, I picked up the Lucite
strip and the gym bag and walked to her bedroom. The door was ajar and I pushed
it open and went in, then closed the door and locked it behind me. Gail was
lying face down with most of her legs hanging off the foot of the bed. She was
wearing a pale blue nightgown, the same colour as her panties, but the nightgown
was short enough to make it obvious that she was no longer wearing the panties.
Her legs were spread slightly and I could feel myself getting hard as I gazed at
the honey-colored thatch revealed by the short gown. I walked over to the bed
put the gym bag on the floor next to it. Without a word I pulled the nightgown
up until the hem crossed the middle of her back. Gail spread her legs a little
wider and clenched the cheeks of her magnificent ass. The redness had faded to a
uniform shade of pink. "Are you ready for the 25 I promised you?" I demanded.
"Yes," she almost whispered. "All right. Remember, now, if you move I'll start
over," I warned. The muscles in her arms tightened as she grabbed the bedspread
with both hands. I raised the Lucite strip and brought it down quickly across
the fullest part of both cheeks. Gail gave a sharp yelp of pain, the loudest
sound she'd made yet. I swatted her again, lower on the right cheek, and settled
into a rhythm of one spank about every second and a half. Gail didn't move but
she gave some kind of cry as each stroke landed. "Oh! Ow! Aaah! Ouch! Please!
Mama! Oooh! Hurts!" Her cries became louder but less coherent as I gave her last
seven or eight spanks, but still she made no effort to move or dodge the plastic
strip. By the time I finished her arms were trembling from the effort she was
putting into clutching the bedspread and her ass was criss-crossed with
straight-sided red blotches, but the outer lips of her pussy were glistening. I
laid the Lucite paddle down and sat down next to Gail's prone figure. I stroked
her ass gently, and she moaned and relaxed her grip on the bedspread as her legs
moved even further apart. I continued rubbing the overheated mounds of firm
flesh but declined the clear invitation to slide my hand between her legs; that
could come later, if she really wanted it. "Oh, yes," she sighed, "your hand
feels so good! I wish my mom had rubbed me like that after a spanking." "Did
that feel like the real thing?" I asked. "It did, and then again it didn't. I
mean, it really hurt, just like the spankings I used to get, and yet it wasn't
unbearable the way they used to be. Maybe it was because I knew when you were
going to stop, but you really got me excited." The glistening lips of her pussy,
and the expanding wet spot on the bedspread beneath Gail's crotch, proved the
accuracy of that statement. My engorged cock threatened to tear through the
front of my slacks, and I stood up to ease the pressure. "All right," I told
her, "I think its time you got a real strapping. Take your nightgown off and
kneel on the bed." I turned away to find my gym bag and selected the heaviest
leather strap. It was a little narrower than the razor strap that I'd
experienced as a kid, but it was both thick and supple, and I was sure it would
get Gail's undivided attention. By the time I turned back to the bed, Gail was
nude and kneeling in the position she'd described earlier. With her head and
shoulders on the bed, her distended nipples grazed the bedspread despite the
firmness of her breasts. Her knees were clenched tightly together, but even so
the swollen lips of her pussy protruded between her tanned thighs. I showed her
the leather strap. "To start with, I'm going to give you ten strokes with this;
is that what you want?" She nodded mutely, and I saw the muscles of her ass
tighten involuntarily. "You know how it works," I reminded her. "You count each
stroke out loud. If you don't count, neither does the stroke, and if you move,
we'll start over. Is that clear?" Again she bobbed her head wordlessly. I still
had a raging hard-on, and Gail's dripping pussy was like a bull's eye in the
middle of the beautiful target in front of me, but I knew she wouldn't be
satisfied until she'd relived one of her stepfather's strappings. I took half a
step backward and raised the strap. Using a side-arm motion I swung it,
medium-hard, so that the last four or five inches of the leather landed low on
the outside of Gail's right asscheek. Gail swayed to her left and let out her
first real scream of pain, but she didn't forget to gasp out a "one!" I landed
the strap again, this time in the middle of the right cheek, provoking another
yell and a strangled "two!" The third and forth lashes landed on the left cheek,
requiring a backhanded motion. I may not have been able to swing the strap with
quite the same force, but each blow left the kind of wide crimson stripe that
the forehand strokes had. The next four, administered about two seconds apart,
descended diagonally, landing near the top of one cheek and cutting across to
end low on the other cheek. The final two I placed across the backs of Gail's
thighs, resulting in cries of real agony - but except for swaying from side to
side, she never moved and never missed in her counting. Laying the strap down, I
knelt on the bed beside Gail. She leaned against me and moaned as I stroked her
blazing ass. The backs of her thighs were wet and slippery with the juices from
her pussy, and I was ready to stop the spanking and plunge my fingers into her
hot tunnel. She stiffened as my hand brushed her outer lips, though, and
whispered "No, I want the rest!" I stood up and Gail spread her knees far apart,
arching her back to keep her ass high in the air. Her tumescent clit jutted from
between puffy labia as I picked up the leather strap. She obviously wanted a
real strapping, and I would give her one. "This time you're going to get
twenty," I told her, "and if you move I'll start over from the beginning -
including the ten you've already had. Are you ready?" I waited for her to nod,
then swung the strap - hard. As I had intended, the last few inches of the strap
smacked into the inside of her left thigh, just below the gaping lips of her
pussy. A thin scream forced its way past Gail's clenched teeth, but she stayed
in position. A backhand stroke left a broad matching welt on the inside of her
right thigh, and again Gail cried out but didn't move. Spacing the strokes about
five seconds apart, I proceeded to lash Gail's ass and the backs and insides of
her thighs. By the time I'd given her ten she had arched her back even further,
thrusting her hips higher into the air and rolling them from side to side each
time the strap landed. By the twentieth, all of her skin that was visible, from
just above her knees to the tops of her asscheeks was a nearly uniform fiery
red, streaked with her pussy juices that the strap had spread. I dropped the
strap on the floor and started gently to stroke Gail's blazing skin. She moaned
and shuddered. "Please," she whispered urgently, "fuck me, hurry, please!" I
needed no urging. Stepping out of my shoes, I loosened my belt and pulled my
slacks and jockey shorts off with one hand, while retrieving and unwrapping the
condom I'd found in Gail's bathroom with the other hand. I rolled the condom
onto my throbbing prick and slid it into her waiting pussy. She came the first
time almost instantly, and shared my orgasm only a minute or two later. As her
second orgasm passed Gail collapsed forward on the bed and I sank down on her
back, still trapped in her pussy and gasping for breath as she was. I kissed the
back of her neck, her shoulder blades, her ears, feeling the hot cheeks of her
ass pressed hard against the front of my thighs. A few minutes later I clambered
to my feet and staggered into the bathroom, where I found a pump bottle of skin
lotion and palmed another condom. Gail was still lying face down on the bed when
I came back and began rubbing lotion gently into her bruised skin. Within a few
minutes we were both thoroughly aroused again. Gail rolled the condom into place
this time, and we made love slowly and tenderly, face to face with Gail on top.
Afterward, as we lay half waking and half sleeping, Gail murmured "I hope we can
do this again." "Which do you mean?" I asked, "the spanking or the love-
making." "Both," she sighed. "I mean, I wouldn't want to be spanked every time I
made love, but I've never felt anything like I felt when you first slid inside
me. I guess I've wanted to be spanked and fucked for a long time." "I've waited
a long time to find someone who wanted to be spanked," I told her, "and I'm
really glad it turns you on. Just looking at you turns me on, and I'd never want
to hurt you." "Oh, you didn't, at least no more than I wanted. Next time,
though, I'd like to start in here and forget the preliminaries. There will be a
next time, won't there?" I assured her that there would be as many next times as
she wanted. -
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